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u 


YOU LITTLE REBEL SPY!” HE HISSED. 




The Dare Boys 

IN 

Vincennes 

By 

STEPHEN ANGUS COX 


Illustrated By 
RUDOLF MENCL 


NEW YORK 

A. L. CHATTERTON CO. 


Copyright, 1912 


A. L. CHATTERTON CO. 


* • 

* • 

» ♦ ♦ 


S Cl. A 3 i 9 G 9 G 

flM>, f, 


CONTENTS 


Chapter. Page. 

I. Assigned to Duty t . : t . ; w L . 9 
II. An Incident ...... 18 

III. A Surprise 28 

IV. An Encounter . . . .39 

V. Aboard the Sloop .... 55 

VI. On the March 68 

VII. On the Beach . . . . .80 

VIII. The Ambush 92 

IX. In Camp 103 

X. Telca 116 

XI. Following the Trail . .. 130 

XII. The Night Attack .... 143 

XIII. The Cliff Drop 156 

XIV. Evading the Enemy . . .168 

XV. United . , ,. l . ; , 180 

XVI. Conclusion t . >i ™ t . . 189 


THE DARE BOYS IN 
VINCENNES 

CHAPTER I. 

ASSIGNED TO DUTY. 

TN the cool, darkened room of the improvised 
* Patriot Hospital in Charleston, a young man 
in the uniform of a Continental, read aloud to 
his much-bandaged friend. The subject of their 
attention was a long-delayed letter from the in- 
valid’s sister, in which she dwelt lightly on the 
hardships at home, and came forth strongly in 
praise of her brother’s hardy deeds. 

“If it wasn’t for Dick,” said the wounded boy, 
faintly, but with a smile, “you would imagine I 
was the Patriot army all by myself.” 

“It’s because you were such a good part of it 
that you’re on your back now,” returned Tom 
Dare with enthusiasm. 

In an important engagement near Charleston, 
Ben Foster had been severely wounded, and for 
two weeks the Dare Boys, Dick and Tom, feared 
for their friend’s life. That morning, however, 
the surgeons had relieved their anxiety by promis- 
9 


10 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


ing Ben’s recovery, provided he received care- 
ful nursing. This good news greatly cheered the 
two brothers’ hearts, for after having passed 
through so many thrilling occasions in safety, 
they dreaded the thought of returning to their 
homes near Philadelphia without their boon com- 
panion. 

Although the city at this date was in control 
of the Patriot Army, the British were every- 
where about and actively watchful. To go to or 
communicate with any point beyond the lines was 
a task fraught with difficulty, and letters were 
rare events indeed. 

Dick Dare, whose latest triumphs under the 
“Swamp Fox” the reader well remembers, re- 
turned at this moment from the commander’s 
quarters and noticed the letter in his comrade’s 
hand. 

“News from home?” he inquired, eagerly. “Oh ! 
from your sister, Ben ?” 

“No,” rejoined Tom, bent on arousing his curi- 
osity, for Dick’s regard for Ben’s sister was well 
known. “No,” he jokingly said, “it’s a letter from 
Fritz Schmockenburg, inviting us to attend an 
affair at his country estate.” 

“I’ll attend to Fritz’s affair later on,” Dick be- 


ASSIGNED TO DUTY 


11 


gan. Then his face grew serious and he added, 
“When Ben has gone to sleep, Toni, and you are 
not wanted here, I want you to run over to the 
barracks for a few minutes. ,, 

“Anything wrong ?” inquired Ben. 

“Only that I’m off for a little trip, Ben, and I 
want to give a few final instructions to this good- 
for-nothing nurse of yours,” Dick returned, quiet- 
ly pushing his brother from the stool on which 
he was sitting. 

“Is that all the general wanted you for ?” asked 
the aggreived Tom, from his location on the 
floor. “I was in hopes that he would send you 
away for a month or two.” 

“Well, it’s very likely to amount to that before 
I get through.” Dick bent close to the bed. 
“I’m bound for Vincennes, boys, but we are to 
keep that secret to ourselves.” 

“Vincennes!” they chorused. 

“Why that’s way over near the Missisippi river, 
isn’t it?” asked Ben. 

“Thereabouts,” replied Dick. “I’m sorry I have 
to go before you are up and around, Ben, but the 
general has honored me with this commission and 
I must start at once.” 


12 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“How about me, cannot I go too?” queried 
Tom. 

“You are to stay here and be good to Ben for a 
few days and then you are to follow me,” an- 
swered Dick, dropping his voice to a whisper. 
“This message that I’m going to carry has got 
to get through and to insure its delivery a similar 
message is to be sent and you are to carry it. If 
one fails the other should succeed. You can fol- 
low me as soon as possible, and we may be able 
to make the last stages of the trip together.” 

“Sorry I’m out of this,” said Ben, “but you 
can’t stop bullets and carry messages at the same 
time very successfully.” 

Dick bade him a quiet, but none the less sin- 
cere farewell, and hurried over to his quarters to 
get ready for his trip. 

His preparations consisted mainly in a careful 
examination of the arms he was to carry and his 
coffee-pot. 

He then called to Fritz — the blundering but 
well-meaning Fritz — with whom the boys had 
had so many larks, and by a few words startled 
that individual into incoherent phrases and hur- 
ried action. Tom joined him soon afterward and 
offered his assistance in making ready. 


ASSIGNED TO DUTY 


13 


“Hate to hurry you away like this, old man,” 
said Tom, mockingly. 

“I am not going to hurry after I start, any- 
how,” Dick replied. “Fm going to take along an 
anchor in the form of that ever-slow German, 
Fritz.” 

“Fritz,” shouted Tom. “Why under the sun 
is he going with you?” 

“To conceal my haste,” Dick answered. “If I 
start out with that symbol of Mercury riding 
along side of me, no one will suspect that I’m go- 
ing through an enemy’s country, and through un- 
beaten forests into the heart of the west on an 
important trip. They will surely think I’ve gone 
to that ‘affair’ on Fritz’s estate you were speaking 
of a short time ago.” 

“Maybe you’re right, Dick,” Tom said mus- 
ingly, “but I suspect that with Fritz along, you 
will have to travel pretty slowly.” 

“Nonsense,” asserted his brother. “Fritz will 
go as fast as his horse carries him and won’t hand- 
icap me in any way.” 

The boys were soon joined by Fritz with his 
equipment in his hands. He was bursting with 
curiosity as to what was in store for him. Dick 
had merely told him to get ready for a long jour- 


14 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


ney and with the German, Dick’s words were 
law, for he had frequently been saved from dan- 
gerous positions by Dick Dare’s aid, and held him 
in the highest esteem. 

The three young adventurers gathered about a 
table at one end of the Dare boys’ room and set- 
tled themselves to the careful study of a much 
worn map of the country through which they 
would have to travel. 

“Fritz and I,” began Dick, “start tomorrow at 
daybreak, so as to avoid any more notice than 
possible, and we are to ride hard after we are out- 
side the British lines, till it gets hot. Then we’ll 
just jog along, either stopping at a farm for our 
meals or cooking them ourselves, making what- 
ever distance the country permits, and spending 
the nights, when possible, with Patriot farmers or 
in the open. One week from today you, Tom, 
will start for the same point. You are to take Tim 
Murphy with you. Tim is quick-witted and you 
ought to be able to follow us rapidly enough to 
arrive at Fort Pitt about the time we do, for 
Fritz and I have to blaze the way.” 

“That sounds like a pleasure excursion, with 
the British, Tories, and Indians thrown in to add 
to the interest and keep us from falling asleep.” 


ASSIGNED TO DUTY 


15 


“Yes, that’s the way it sounds,” responded 
Dick, “but remember, young man, that we have 
to deliver that message exactly one month from 
today!” 

“Never,” cried Tom. “Why, Dick, that’s im- 
possible. A thousand miles with all those diffi- 
culties in front of you! I don’t think that even 
you can do it, Dick.” 

“It has to be done,” said Dick, quietly, “and 
you’ve got to try it too, Tom.” 

“Well, if you can, I can, Dick,” answered Tom, 
spiritedly. 

“So it will be a race,” cried Dick. 

“And may we both win,” rejoined his brother, 
holding out his hand. 

“Ver do I come in?” inquired Fritz, for the 
first time sufficiently collected to speak. “Now 
dot I am made ready, for once, vy iss it I am 
going to, — from, — for, — 

“You’re not,” said Tom, severely. 

“No,” added Dick. 

“No!” chimed Fritz. 

Then Dick, to help his confused comrade out 
of his difficulties, explained their proposed jour- 
ney as clearly as possible to the delight of the 
soldier, who welcomed an opportunity to distin- 


16 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


guish himself in so important a mission, and who 
was, moreover, greatly pleased at the prospect of 
a trip with Dick Dare. 

While the three young fellows were engrossed 
in the discussion of their plans, there came to their 
ears the sound of horses in motion. They were 
passing under their window and drew the boys' 
attention outside. 

“Our mounts," shouted Dick. 

“Our mounds ver?" asked Fritz in a puzzled 
tone. 

“You wait here Fritz and I’ll bring them up," 
said Dick, laughing as he and Tom hurried from 
the room. 

They met the cavalry troopers leading two 
horses. At the entrance to the barn they made 
a careful examination of the animals by lamp- 
light. 

“A fine pair of horses," said Dick. 

“Seem pretty wiry," ventured Tom, and then 
looking about he added: “Wonder what hap- 
pened to Fritz?" 

“We’ll see about that," replied Dick, giving his 
new possession a final and parting pat. They 
retraced their steps and reaching the front of the 
house collided with Fritz. He had just ventured 


ASSIGNED TO DUTY 


17 


forth in an effort to find out what the others were 
doing. 

“Your horse doesn’t care to go up to see you 
tonight, Fritz,” said Dick in an apologetic tone. 

“Horse?” echoed Fritz. 

“Certainly,” replied Tom, having difficulty in 
restraining his mirth. 

“I do’t you said it ‘mound’ vas,” protested 
Fritz. 

“That’s a ‘grave’ mistake on your part,” an- 
swered Tom, as pursued by the laughing Dick and 
the preplexed Fritz, he fled into the barracks. 

“Time to turn in, I guess, as long as Fritz and 
I have to be up so early in the morning,” Dick 
yawned. 

So the three youths upon whom during the next 
few weeks so much was to depend, rolled them- 
selves up in their blankets and with a muffled 
“Good night,” closed their eyes for the last time 
together for many a night. 


CHAPTER II. 


AN INCIDENT. 


ETTING warm, isn’t it ” commented 



Dare about eleven o’clock the morning 


of their first day on the road. 

“Dot’s right, py jimminy,” panted Fritz, mop- 
ping the perspiration from his red face. “But we 
fooled those Red-goats that time, eh Dick?” 

“I’m not so sure,” Dick replied gravely. “I’m 
very much afraid they knew that everything 
wasn’t as it should be, and that they will suspect 
our mission. And if they do, we are going to 
have trouble before we arrive at Vincennes.” 

Dick was referring to the incident of their 
passing the British lines early that morning. One 
of the guards was inclined to be suspicious. Dick’s 
seeming frank explanation but more particularly 
Fritz’s innocent and guileless manner, however, 
had temporarily, at least, won the day. 

“Dot’s an unbolite feller up the road, Dick,” 
muttered the German boy, pointing ahead. “See 


18 


AN INCIDENT 


19 


him vaving his arms and hands at a young frau- 
line like he vas her jailor.” 

Dick shaded his eyes with his hand and sur- 
veyed the couple to whom Fritz had called his at- 
tention. The man was unquestionably threaten- 
ing his companion with violence, and the girl, 
although she made no effort to escape, glanced 
back frequently as if looking about her for as- 
sistance. 

“Come on, let’s investigate,” cried Dick, putting 
spurs to his horse. Fritz followed closely, and 
the pair soon overtook the two pedestrians whom 
they had observed. As they rode up, the man, 
who was evidently a young southerner, siezed his 
companion by the wrist, at which she cried out . 

“That strikes me as very poor courtesy,” 
shouted Dick, reining up, “and is most surprising 
to see in a man of this state !” 

“State,” snapped the other, still retaining his 
hold on the girl, who looked as if she might be 
his sister, as the boys soon discovered she was. 
“To all but rebels this is a loyal colony of His 
Majesty, King George.” 

“Rebels is a hard word,” replied Dick, “and, 
moreover, my friend and I shall be indebted to 
you if you will immediately release the lady, who 


20 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


doesn’t appear to be greatly flattered with your 
attentions.” 

“Yah,” chorused Fritz. “So are we.” 

“You don’t seem to lack admirers,” drawled the 
southerner, turning to his sister. Then, his rage 
overcoming him, “You little rebel spy !” he 
hissed. 

The girl paled, and at this added insult Dick 
leaped to the ground and advanced on the trouble- 
some one. Grasping him by the collar and giv- 
ing him a vigorous push in the proper direction, 
Dick sent the young Loyalist sprawling in a ditch. 

“Ha, ha!” shouted Fritz, “my turn next.” 

“It will be both of your turns next,” yelled 
their new acquaintance, who had promptly recov- 
ered his feet, and was retiring down the road in 
discomfort, evidently feeling sure that retreat was 
the safest in the face of such odds. 

“Oh,” cried the girl, “now I’ve drawn you into 
trouble, haven’t I?” 

“Not that I can notice,” replied Dick, with quiet 
indifference. “I trust that we have been of service 
to you and haven’t interferred where we shouldn’t 
have.” 

“I can’t thank you enough for getting rid of 
him just at this moment,” she replied. “As he 


AN INCIDENT 


21 


said, I’m a Patriot, and he was trying to force 
some important information from me regarding 
the forces in Charleston.” 

“My name is Dare, miss, and this is Fritz 
Schmockenburg, both of Capt. Morgan’s com- 
pany.” 

The girl nodded brightly at Fritz, who was 
overwhelmed by the suddenness with which he 
was thrown into a lady’s company. “My brother 
is very influential in the King’s army,” she said, 
“and now I’d advise you to hurry along if you 
expect to avoid any further trouble with him.” 

At that moment Dick thought he distinguished 
the dull sound of hoof-beats coming from the di- 
rection in which the young Tory had retreated. 

“Guess you’re right,” replied Dick, “but if we 
go on, what will happen to you?” 

“My house is around the bend in the road,” the 
girl answered quickly, “I’ll cut through these 
woods and be safe in two minutes. But you must 
hurry, for he won’t come back alone.” 

“Good-bye and good luck,” cried Dick as he 
watched her spring lightly over the stone wall 
at the side of the road. “All aboard, Fritz, I 
reckon they’re after us,” and suiting action to the 


22 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


word, Dick vaulted into his saddle and started 
away at a gallop. 

The pursuing Redcoats could be seen plainly 
now, urging their horses on in the hopes of over- 
taking the young patriots before they had gath- 
ered speed. The two groups fairly flew along the 
dusty highway, and Dick, bending low over his 
saddle, saw the pursuers drawing their pistols. 

“Bend down, Fritz,” he shouted, “but don’t try 
to return their fire.” 

Even as he spoke there was the sound of dis- 
charged firearms. 

“Ach, I’m a dead one alreaty,” hollered Fritz, 
and before Dick could reply or offer aid, the Ger- 
man boy clutched madly at his horse’s mane and 
then rolled in a heap in the dust of the road. His 
fall was greeted with yells from the soldiers, who 
quickly approaching soon surrounded his prostrate 
form and abandoned any further pursuit of Dick. 

“Just what Tom said,” muttered Dick, as after 
a hard gallop he slowed down his panting horse 
and wiped the dust from his eyes. “Here, on the 
first day out, Fritz is captured and probably 
wounded seriously, and I can’t go on my mission 
till I find out how he is and what I can do for 
him.” 


AN INCIDENT 


23 


Dick rode slowly onward for half a mile more, 
and then turned off in the bed of a stream which 
crossed the road at this point. The brook rapidly 
narrowed to a rushing little fall, and here, com- 
pletely away from sight or sound of travellers 
along the road, he jumped from his tired horse, 
permitted him a refreshing drink at the brook, 
and, after hobbling him securely, turned his at- 
tention toward preparing a meal for one. 

Dick moistened a handful of flour with water, 
kneaded it with his fingers into a clinging dough, 
and set it aside while he built his fire. He was 
particular to pick out dry pieces of moss and hard 
twigs, for smoke was a thing to be avoided, and 
the hard woods burn freest. 

Having gradually increased the size of his fuel 
and consequently the blaze, until he judged it 
hot enough, Dick drew his hunting knife, cut two 
pieces of bacon from his precious store, and laid 
them in the pan on the coals. The dough he now 
rolled into flat round cakes and placed in the pan 
with the bacon to fry. Carefully turning the 
cakes and bacon from time to time with the flat of 
his knife, he prepared a meal fit for a king, but 
destined to be eaten by an enemy of all kings. 

Dick fretted and fumed all that afternoon, and 


24 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


toward dusk ventured out from his retreat and 
rode slowly back in the direction of the British 
camps, whose exact whereabouts he had to de- 
termine. At the top of a slight rise he saw in 
the distance the glow of the soldiers' camp-fire, 
and making his horse fast to a tree, some distance 
from the road, he proceeded carefully on foot to- 
ward the sentinel lines and the British encamp- 
ment. 

Half way up to the camp he dropped flat on the 
ground and waited for the nearest outpost to come 
to the end of his stretch, exchange a word with 
his neighbor, and turn back. Then Dick crawled 
between the two while their backs were turned, 
and was safely inside the lines. But where was 
Fritz? And how badly was he wounded ? Could 
he have been killed? 

Dick, after considerable reconnoitering, located 
a stout log house in front of which a sentry strol- 
ling was talking to his nearby companions around 
a fire. Dick was near enough to hear plainly all 
that was said. 

“The old Dutchman snores," laughed the sen- 
tinel. 

“Hurray," thought Dick, “that means Fritz and 
then he can't be very seriously wounded." 


AN INCIDENT 


25 


Dick crept up behind the hut, which was built 
of stout logs, and discovered with joy that there 
was a small barred window. Through this he 
lightly threw a small stone to attract the prison- 
er's attention. 

“Get oud,” yelled Fritz, who was surprised 
from his sleep by the missle. 

“Wait till I come in," said his guard, from the 
other side of the house. “Quit your Dutch dreams 
and prepare to go on to the next world, cause 
you're due to take that trip tomorrow, sure." 

“Not if I know it," thought Dick. 

Then when things had quieted down again, h$ 
called to Fritz softly through the window. The 
German boy got up from the couch on which he 
was lying and looked out cautiously. He almost 
shouted when he distinguished his friend in the 
semi-darkness. 

“Are you badly hurt, Fritz?" asked Dick anx- 
iously. 

“Nein," was the answer, “dot fool saddle 
slipped the horse off and me and mine horse went 
mit it the dust into." 

“Good," ejaculated Dick, “Fm glad it’s no 
worse. Now how about getting out?" 

“Dere iss a chimney big enough," said Fritz, 


26 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“and the door is only barred on the other side, 
but there is a soldier there.” 

“The chimney, then/' said Dick, “for we can’t 
get past the guard at the door. Why haven’t you 
escaped before this?” 

“Veil, I fell asleep ven they put me in here, and 
you yoke me up just now,” confessed Fritz, sheep- 
ishly. 

“Up the chimney now, quick,” ordered Dick, 
“and be quiet, too.” 

Fritz disappeared, and after quite an interval 
Dick saw his stout comrade laboriously climbing 
over the top of the structure. But Dick wasn’t 
alone in this strange sight. One of the soldiers 
saw him too, and, yelling out the alarm, sprang 
for his gun just as Fritz jumped to the ground. 
Dick leading, both started running through the 
woods. 

The two fugitives made a detour through the 
underbrush, tearing their clothes and making noise 
enough to guide the pursuing Red-coats. Dick and 
Fritz turned sharply to the left, stepping quietly 
for a few paces, and found themselves in the open- 
ing, before the very prison Fritz had so recently 
deserted, while the chase streamed by in the dark- 


AN INCIDENT 


27 


ened woods, and the cries of the soldiers roused 
the neighboring fire-groups to action. 

‘‘Into the hut,” whispered Dick. “It’s our 
only chance. The woods are alive with troops 
and we’d be caught in no time.” 

“But I just got oud,” objected Fritz. “And I 
don’t ” 

“In you go,” said Dick, giving him a push, and 
following the hurried and astonished boy, he 
closed the door after them and stepped to the 
window. 

“They have got us safe enough, if they only 
knew it,” thought Dick. He turned to Fritz. 
“They’ll come back here soon to see how you 
climbed out. We’ve got to hide somewhere. 
Quick, they’re coming now ! Under that straw in 
the corner, Fritz. I’ll take care of myself. Way 
under, now!” 


CHAPTER III. 


A SURPISE. 

'TWO days before the week succeeding the de- 
parture of Dick and his comrade had 
elapsed, Tom and Tim made their preparations to 
start after them. Ben had progressed nicely and 
was able to sit up and take an interest in life 
once more. After a long consultation with the 
commander the boys had arranged to make the 
first part of the trip by water. This in order to 
avoid the suspicion that they were following Dick 
and thus prevent the real importance of their mis- 
sion from being discovered. 

Toward evening of the day of their departure, 
Tim Murphy, overflowing with true Irish wit and 
humor, and full of expectations of an exciting trip 
with Tom Dare, climbed gaily aboard the long, 
low-built schooner that was to convey them up 
the coast to the Chesapeake. 

“Sure, and it’s welcome ye are to my private 
yacht, Tom,” he called over the side to his com- 
28 


A SURPRISE 


29 


panion. “Come aboard and join me paity of 
friends who are thinkin’ of cruisin’ about for a 
few weeks at me expense.” 

“There will be a murder at your expense when 
the captain sees those muddy marks on his white 
deck,” replied Tom. “She is a beauty though, 
isn’t she?” he continued, gazing critically over the 
craft’s lines and rigging. 

“That she is,” agreed Tim. 

“Avast, you land-lubber,” bellowed a voice 
from the fore-deck. 

“Told you so,” whispered Tom. 

“What did I do?” queried Tim, staring about 
to discover the cause of the trouble. 

“Oh, probably the gentleman who just spoke 
recognized you,” laughed Tom. 

“Ow!” yelled Tim, for at that moment a can 
of varnish which one of the sailors had been low- 
ering from the masthead, reached Tim, and tilting 
slightly, covered his face with the sticky fluid. 

“I’ll be after haulin’ ye to the gineral,” shouted 
the outraged Tim. “Insultin’ a special soldier on 
special duty is a serious offince.” 

“You look like a very special soldier,” Tom 
managed to say between his bursts of laughter. 

The appearance on the deck of the captain 


30 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


saved Tim from further disgrace, and after ex- 
tending a hearty welcome to Tom and his offended 
companion, he led the two boys below and showed 
them their bunks. Tim hurriedly got rid of the 
varnish and joined Tom in the captain’s cabin. 

“We’re all sailors together when we are on 
board, boys,” began their new host. “The gen- 
eral has told me that you know something of sail- 
ing, and a little of navigating,” turning to Tom, 
“so I’ll ask you to assist the mate in standing 
watch. Perhaps as long as you are more or less 
of an amateur it will help you to have Tim with 
you on your watch. We sail at nine tonight, 
dropping down with the tide, and your turn won’t 
come until tomorrow morning, so turn in, boys, 
and get in a good night’s rest before the work 
begins.” 

The two new members of the crew found them- 
selves ready for their bunks when the time came, 
and slept peacefully until early morning, when 
Tom was awakened by an unearthly shouting. Sit- 
ting up quietly in his bunk he rapped his head 
sharply against the bottom of the upper bunk, and 
before he had recovered his wits he was pounced 
upon by three sailors. 

More quickly than it can be described he was 


A SURPRISE 


31 


bound and trussed like a fowl, and carried forward 
along the decks. Here he was promptly lowered 
into the dark hold, and found lying beside him the 
unfortunate Tim, gagged to prevent his shouts 
from disturbing the mutineers, together with the 
mate and captain in the same plight with himself. 

Meanwhile the hatch had been battered down 
and nothing broke the stillness of the hold save the 
swish of the waves outside and the uneven breath- 
ing of his companions. 

After considerable wriggling, Tom was able to 
reach Tim’s gag with his hands and finally worked 
it loose. 

“Now keep quiet,” cautioned Tom, “or you’ll 
have that pack of traitors back at us. Tell me what 
happened to you and what the meaning of this 
pretty affair is.” 

“You know as well as I do,” returned the in- 
jured Tim. “I woke up with half the bloody 
wretches jumping on me and tying ropes all over 
me, so I just hollered and here I am.” 

“The captain and mate are hurt,” Tom said. 
“If you will turn over on your side so I can reach 
your wrists, perhaps the knots will loosen up, and 
we can get the use of our limbs again. Then we’ll 


32 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


look for some water to bring the captain around 
with.” 

The knots were more trouble than Tom had 
expected, and by the time Tim was free, the cap- 
tain and mate showed signs of returning con- 
sciousness. Tim speedily released his friend, and 
together they loosed the two prisoners' bonds and 
chafed their wrists to restore circulation. 

A hasty tour of the hold revealed to Tom a half 
dozen water casks and a canvas bucket in which 
he drew some of the cool liquid, and returned to 
the side of the captain and his fellow sufferer. The 
water sprinkled on them soon stirred the two men 
into renewed life, and after gazing about for a few 
moments they both broke forth into imprecations 
against their faithless crew. 

“Unlucky day that I ever shipped that pack of 
robbers,” muttered the captain. “A lot of Portu- 
guese and Tories, probably well paid by the en- 
emies of Liberty, turning against their captain on 
the high seas. They’ll hang to the yard arm for 
this or I never saw a ship before.” 

“Guess we’ll have quite a long day’s work hang- 
ing all of them, won’t we?” asked Tom. “Seems 
to me that we are more apt to be those hanging 


A SURPRISE 


33 


decorations ourselves unless we can get out of 
their way before long.” 

‘‘They’ll be too busy tending to business for a 
while,” answered the mate. “From the sound of 
the water alongside, I judge there has blown up 
a pretty stiff breeze, and as far as I know, none of 
those villains knows any too much about handling 
a ship.” 

“Hope they know enough to keep her right side 
up,” said Tom, “otherwise we’ll be likely to 
gather no moss till we reach bottom.” 

“If they don’t come down before night,” the 
captain continued, “we ought to be able to get 
into the little galley under my cabin, and get the 
arms that we have on board. I don’t think they 
are very well equipped with either guns or powder, 
though there’s plenty of both on board. If they 
only give us time we’ll have the best of it yet, and 
then — ” The captain drifted on half to himself 
going over all the dire punishments the unruly 
crew might expect should he once get them into 
his power. 

The day wore on without any visits from the 
men ashore, and it was well toward dusk before 
the four prisoners heard the hatch above them 
being removed. 


34 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“If they find us with the ropes all off, they’ll 
probably tie us up tighter than ever,” said Tom 
in a hurried whisper. 

“Back to the stern part of this old hole,” 
grunted the captain. “We can hide there for a 
few minutes, and I may be able to get the trap 
open into the musket room. We ought to be 
able to stand them off with clubbed guns until 
night, and then we’ll make a try for the powder 
and shot.” 

The hatch had in the meantime been removed, 
and in the square above Tom could see the fast 
darkening sky, with two heads peering down 
into the darkness below. 

“Can’t see the old rats, can you?” said one. 

“Have to get a lantern and investigate,” an- 
swered the other. “Hey, Jack pass us a light, 
and come along below. Going to pay a visit to 
the captain and his good friends.” 

“Let’s give them a warm reception,” whispered 
Tom. We four can easily surprise the three of 
them, and before they can get any help from 
above, we can get away, and climb into your 
store-house, captain.” 

“Go ahead,” replied the captain, only too glad 


A SURPRISE 


35 


of the chance to settle scores with some of his 
rebel crew. 

As the three sailors slowly descended the lad- 
der, the first one carrying the lantern, our four 
friends stole softly nearer to the limited circle 
of light cast by the lantern’s flickering rays. 

The foremost sailor had just reached the bot- 
tom, when with a shout, Tim sprang for the man 
highest up, and, catching him by the ankles, 
threw him heavily from the ladder. The other 
two, taken by surprise at this unexpected assault 
from the men they had supposed to be bound, 
made very little trouble for the three Patriots, 
and were soon rolled up in the same ropes that 
their victims had recently escaped from. 

The mutineers overhead hearing the scuffle in 
the hold, crowded about the hatchway, shouting 
questions to their comrades. 

“Come down and see what’s the matter,” yelled 
the captain. “There’s room for all of you in the 
same place your friends are stowed.” 

“We’ll keep up the talk,” interposed Tom 
quietly, “while you get the trap open into the 
gun room.” 

The captain hurried off into the darkness, while 


36 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


Tim, the mate and Tom kept up a running fire 
of comment with the sailors overhead. 

“Come along and jine the bunch of us/’ yelled 
Tim, in his best Celtic. “We’re after holding a 
small reception in our private quarters.” 

No response to his sally came from the hatch, 
and Tom' noticed the gradual addition of a num- 
ber of sailors with lanterns about the opening. 

“Hope there’s enough of them left from this 
little tea-party to trim ship,” said the mate, who 
had undertaken the duty of watching their three 
prisoners. 

“Guess they’ll take good care of their own 
skins,” Tom replied. “Even if they don’t show 
much regard for ours.” 

“Your friends is havin’ a foine time,” shouted 
Tim, whom no situation could frighten, “and 
we’ll all be glad to see yez with us if you’ll only 
accipt our invitation.” 

“You’d better be careful or they will be with 
us altogether too soon,” interposed Tom. 

“Right you are,” the mate continued. “They 
won’t stay away from us after they find we are 
unarmed for very long.” 

The group on deck had evidently reached some 
conclusion at this minute for a pair of legs fol- 


A SURPRISE 


37 


lowed by a long blue jacketed body appeared on 
the upper rungs of the ladder and the first of 
the sailors began a careful descent. He carried a 
long dirk in his belt, and the three on guard 
shouted to the captain that they would have to 
join him soon. 

“Hold up a minute and I’ll be ready for you,” 
the captain replied. “Just a couple of shakes, and 
we’ll be all right.” 

The three Patriots retreated into the darkness 
of the afterhold, and the first invader jumped to 
the bottom of the ladder, where he was speedily 
joined by half a dozen of his companions. 

“Let us out of this,” cried the captive sailors, 
who had been roped up by the boys. “Let us 
have a whack at them too.” 

“What’s in these kegs ?” whispered Tom to the 
mate, pointing to a small round object he had 
fallen over. 

“Powder,” replied the mate. “Why?” 

Quick as a flash, Tom ran his fingers around 
the keg, until he found the plug. Working this 
loose a fine stream of black powder ran out and 
formed a little mound beside the keg. Tom hast- 
ily added more to this and spread it out in a 
thin line running toward the captain. 


38 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


Tim, grasping his idea, helped all he could to 
lengthen the thin trail of powder, and they soon 
had a fuse of considerable length running from 
the keg to the trap in the gun room. 

The mutineers were now starting toward the 
four prisoners, and as they approached to within 
a dozen yards of the keg, Tom cried out: 

'‘Keep back or we’ll send this old boat to the 
bottom. Another step and I’ll touch off these 
powder kegs in front of you!” 


CHAPTER IV. 


AN ENCOUNTER. 

A FTER seeing Fritz scramble under the heap 
** of straw in the corner of the hut, Dick's 
eyes roamed about the enclosure in search of a 
place to conceal himself. He could hear the Red- 
coats returning to the clearing after their fruit- 
less pursuit of the two boys, and he knew that 
there was no time to waste before getting out of 
sight. 

Suddenly he hit upon the best remaining hiding 
place, an old grain chest in the corner, and quickly 
raising the lid he climbed inside and lowered it. 
For awhile all was silent, and just as Dick had 
decided that it would be wise to get out of his new 
residence and look about, he heard the indistinct 
murmur of voices, and heavy footsteps sounded 
on the cabin floor. 

“The rebel got out through the chimney/’ said 
the first voice. 

“Go along. He was too fat to get out of 
there,” said the second. 

39 


40 THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 

“Oh, I saw him, as I told you,” repeated the 
first, “and if you hadn’t been asleep on your job 
you’d have seen him, too.” 

“Well, I don’t care how he got out. So long 
as he’s gone we can’t help it,” the disgruntled 
trooper replied. “For one, I’m glad he’s out 
of this cozy box. I’m going to camp in here 
myself.” 

“Ought to be room for four or five of us, I 
guess,” another Redcoat chimed in. “And 
there’s a nice stack of straw for my bed.” 

“Poor Fritz,” thought Dick. “Caught again. 
Well, if I’m able to get out of this I may be able 
to help him again. I’m afraid coming back here 
was a bad plan the way things are working out.” 

A dispute had arisen, however, amongst the 
soldiers as to who was entitled to the heap of 
straw, and after some scuffling and much wordy 
war, they agreed to leave the straw where it was, 
and all slept on their blankets. 

“Hope Fritz doesn’t get up and thank them 
for leaving him alone,” Dick thought. “And 
now, with this pleasant little addition to our 
party, however are we going to get away?” 

The soldiers were soon rolled up in their cov- 
erings, and despite the excitement of their recent 


AN ENCOUNTER 


41 


chase, they quickly dropped off to sleep, as Dick 
could tell from the constantly growing volume of 
snores. 

After allowing all the time he felt he could 
to let his unwitting captors drift soundly into 
the land of dreams, Dick carefully raised the 
cover of his bin, and stuck his head out to look 
around. The fires outside had died down, and 
the light inside was very scarce indeed. 

Suddenly Dick heard a rustle from the straw 
pile and he realized that Fritz had about exhausted 
his ability to keep motionless. Dick quietly raised 
himself over the side of the box, and stepping 
cautiously over two sleeping Redcoats, crept to 
the hiding place of Fritz. How to uncover his 
friend without making a noise was a problem, but 
proceeding with great care and skill, he gradually 
removed part of the straw from Fritz, and whis- 
pering to him to be perfectly quiet till he finished, 
Dick gradually had the German boy free of all 
trouble, and together they tiptoed to the door of 
the hut. 

Directly outside, however, some more of the 
soldiers were sleeping, and both Dick and Fritz 
in their eagerness to get away from their sur- 
roundings stumbled over one of the sleeping 


42 THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 

forms and immediately aroused the enemy to a 
knowledge of their presence. 

The yells of the startled Redcoats filled the 
woods, and with Fritz dashing madly after the 
fleeing Dick, the two quickly reached the outskirts 
of the camp. 

“I see the horses,” panted Dick. “We must try 
to get yours.” 

“Yah. Get me a horse,” answered Fritz, be- 
tween breaths. “Myself won't carry much more.” 

Although the soldiers were heard not a great 
distance back, Dick dashed to the tether rope and 
slashed it with his knife. At that moment the 
trooper guarding the horses sprang upon him, but 
Fritz had presence of mind enough left to grab 
him about the waist, and the two rolled on the 
ground locked in each others arms. Fritz's horse 
was on the end of the line, and grasping the hal- 
ter to secure him, Dick shouted and slapped at 
the nearest trooper’s horses to stampede them. 
He was more successful than he had hoped and 
the frightened animals turned and galloped off 
in all directions, many of them heading for the 
pursuing Redcoats. 

The confusion that resulted was a great help 
to the two patriots, and as Fritz had freed him- 


AN ENCOUNTER 


43 


self from the clutches of the soldier he had been 
fighting with, the two boys made their escape in 
the darkness and soon picked up Dick’s horse, 
at some little distance from the camp. 

“I’m more than thankful to be out of that,” 
said Dick, earnestly, when they had galloped a 
little way along the road. 

“But vere do we sleep?” asked Fritz. “For 
myself this is a hard day.” 

“Sleep,” echoed Dick, “we won’t get any of 
that before noon-day, I guess. We’ve got to keep 
moving while the darkness helps us.” 

They had now covered a mile or more along 
the road, and Fritz was drooping in his saddle 
from exhaustion, when, without warning, from 
the road ahead a figure cried, “Halt !” 

The command w 7 as accompanied by the ominous 
click of a musket hammer being raised, and as 
Dick pulled at the bridle of Fritz’s horse and at- 
tempted to wheel them both, he felt himself 
grasped by strong hands. Despite his efforts he 
was quickly pulled from his mount. 

Fritz was soon placed beside him, and the 
leader, after gruffly cautioning the boys to be 
quiet, gave the order to march, and the band 
with its prisoners in their midst moved on in the 


44 THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 

direction which the boys had been following. 
Evidently they had ridden into their ranks be- 
fore discovering the presence of anyone else, and 
had fallen easy victims into their hands. 

It was still some time before day, and the tired 
boys had great difficulty in keeping up to the 
rapid strides of their captors. 

Finally, after what seemed an age to Fritz, 
the dark turned into a dull grey and Dick, peering 
at the men about him, suddenly emitted a shout 
that brought the men about him threateningly. 

“They’re our men, Fritz! Hurray!” he cried. 
“We’re all right, after all !” 

“Give us back our horse,” grumbled Fritz, pro- 
voked at having walked when he might have 
ridden. 

“Boys, this is a mistake,” explained Dick. 
“We’re Patriots on a special mission, and we trust 
you’ll help us make up this needless loss of time.” 

“Fine Patriots you would make,” answered one 
of the band. “You’re a couple of Tory spies and 
you can’t fool your Uncle Henry by any such 
story as that.” 

“You’re wrong,” cried Dick. “You’re dead 
wrong. Isn’t there any of you here that know 
us? This is Fritz Schmockenberg, of Captain 


AN ENCOUNTER 


45 


Morgan’s company. I’m Dick Dare,” he ex- 
plained modestly. 

“Ha, ha,” laughed one of the men. “So you’re 
Dick Dare, are you? Well, let me tell you, my 
young friend, that Dick Dare is in Charleston, and 
we left him there only yesterday.” 

“That’s what everybody is supposed to think,” 
replied Dick. “We left there secretly.” 

“That don’t go with us,” said the leader, com- 
ing forward. “You fellows are from the British 
force which is quartered a space back along the 
road, and I’m afraid that under the usual rules 
of war, you will have to pay the penalty that is 
usually dealt out to spies.” 

“For why didn’t we stay vere ve vass,” la- 
mented Fritz. “Dot straw vas so comfortable.” 

“Where were you ?” questioned the Patriot cap- 
tain. 

“In dot Redgoat hut,” answered Fritz, with- 
out thinking of the effect such a statement would 
have. 

“Just what I thought,” cried the Patriot, exult- 
ingly. “What have you got to say to that?” turn- 
ing to Dick. 

“What he says is true,” answered Dick. “We 
just escaped from the hands of the British, and 


46 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


thought we had run into another of their parties 
when you took us in charge.” 

“Well, we don’t string up prisoners without a 
chance to explain themselves,” returned the leader, 
“but I can’t say as I see much hope for you fel- 
lows. You admit coming from the enemy’s 
camp, and don’t explain matters till you think 
up this fool story about being Patriots. I kind of 
think you are British spies and in these times 
we can’t afford to be taking many chances.” 

“You are making an awful mistake,” answered 
Dick. “jLi we could only be taken before one of 
your commanders, I’m sure they would know me. 
I’m afraid I can’t explain anything any more 
fully.” Dick kept in mind the secrecy of his in- 
structions, and did not feel that he could betray 
his trust under any circumstances. 

The company resumed their march and a few 
of the officers withdrew and entered into an earn- 
est discussion. They were one of the bands of 
local Patriots who roamed about the country and 
joined whatever organized movement was afoot 
in their vicinity. They were a great thorn in the 
side of the British, but due to their irresponsibility 
and lack of order, were not generally sought after 
by the Patriot armies. 


AN ENCOUNTER 


47 


After marching- some distance along the road, 
the men turned off to one side, crossed a few 
fields, and entered a patch of woods to cook break- 
fast and rest after their tiring march. The two 
boys shared in the breakfast and exchanged a few 
comments with each other, but talking to the men 
who were about them was forbidden. 

With their simple repast out of the way the 
men lay back and took their ease preparatory to 
taking up their tramp again. The leaders now 
approached Dick and Fritz and proceeded to 
question them about the British force they had 
just left. 

“How many men were there in the Redcoats' 
camp?” asked the captain. 

“About two hundred, I should think,” said 
Dick. 

“As long as you are making your last state- 
ments on this earth, you may as well stick to the 
truth,” commented the second in command, 
brutally. 

“Bud,” Fritz cried, “we would rather stick to 
the earth.” The men could not refrain from 
laughing at his unintentional joke. 

“If you hang us as spies,” Dick said, boldly, 
f ‘you will regret it before long. As soon as the 


48 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


general hears of your horrible mistake I imagine 
you will have to pay the penalty for your haste.” 

“That’s our lookout, young man,” returned the 
leader. “We can’t see anything else to do under 
the circumstances. You admit having come from 
the British camp, and didn’t declare yourselves 
when we caught you, so I guess your story won’t 
stand in the face of the evidence against you.” 

Things looked very black to the two boys at 
that moment, and there passed before the minds 
of each all of the indidents in their exciting young 
lives. Meanwhile the soldiers prepared two ropes 
to place about their necks, and after asking for 
any last requests they had to make, led the boys 
to a strong tree and threw the ends of the ropes 
over the lower branches. 

The two youths had borne themselves bravely 
through this ordeal and were prepared to go to 
the end, whatever it might be, in a suitable man- 
ner, although Fritz was nearly in tears at the 
thought of what their finish must be. 

“I can’t forgive myself for bringing you into 
this, Fritz,” said Dick, brokenly. 

“Dot’s all right,” said Fritz, “mapy der ropes 
vill preak.” 

Before Dick could reply to the German’s hu- 


AN ENCOUNTER 


49 


merous remark and forlorn hope, a brisk volley 
was fired from around a bend in the road, and the 
Patriot outposts ran hurriedly toward the shelter 
of the trees, one of them falling before he had 
gone more than a few paces, badly wounded by 
the first discharge. 

The men quickly abandoned Dick and Fritz, 
and grasping their guns, ran crouching to the 
nearest stone wall in front of them. 

“Its the British!” cried one of the pickets. 

“Come on, men, and we’ll give a good account 
of ourselves,” shouted the captain. “Keep be- 
hind the walls and they can’t touch us.” 

He and the other leaders rushed across the field 
toward the oncoming British. The latter swept 
around the bend in the road in regular formation 
and fired a volley with telling effect at the Patriot 
band. The leaders, more impetuous than the men, 
suffered severely, and all of them dropped either 
dead or wounded. The men, however, kept on 
and without further loss gained the shelter of 
the stone wall. But without their leaders the de- 
fence gradually weakened and the men began 
to drop back and take refuge behind the second 
wall. The boys had been onlookers up to this 
point, but the defeat of the Patriots was too much 


50 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


for their enthusiasm and with the ropes still 
hanging, unheeded about their necks and trailing 
out behind, the two youths leaped to the front 
and snatching up guns from the dead soldiers, 
shouted to the demoralized and scattering mem- 
bers of the band. 

“Come on, men !” Dick cried. “Don’t let them 
get the best of us now ! A few more volleys and 
we’ll have them on the run.” 

“Yah, yah, yah!” chorused Fritz, following 
Dick and brandishing the musket above his head. 
He and Dick reached the second stone wall behind 
which the men were seeking shelter. 

The English troopers were holding the first 
wall and were contemplating a charge across the 
field to drive the Patriots from their position when 
Dick took charge. 

“Fritz!” he cried, above the roar of the battle. 
“Take a dozen of these fellows around and 
through the woods and take the British on the 
flank!” 

“Dot’s it!” answered Fritz, catching his friend’s 
idea quickly. “We’ll did it.” 

Dick motioned a handful of the men apart and 
told them to follow Fritz if they hoped to win 
out that day and save their liberty. Dick Dare’s 



“NOW IS THE TIME”, CALLED DICK. 




AN ENCOUNTER 


53 


commanding tone and natural leadership inspired 
the men with new life, and the few men left with 
him redoubled their efforts to cover the departure 
of their comrades and hold the Redcoats off. 
Their firing, however, was growing more and 
more infrequent, and the English troops were be- 
ginning to climb over the stone wall to charge 
across the field when Fritz and his men broke out 
of the woods and yelling like a hundred Indians 
charged upon the rear of the British. 

“Now’s the time, boys,” called Dick, leaping 
onto the fence in front of them. “We’ll finish the 
argument now.” 

The band jumped up with a cheer and followed 
Dick’s lead, rushed madly over the open ground 
and took the startled enemy off their guard. The 
combined onslaught of the two bands was more 
than the British could withstand. After a few 
minutes of hand-to-hand conflict the English 
broke and fled headlong for the road. The exult- 
ing Patriots followed them for some distance, 
making several prisoners, and at last, wearied 
with the long encounter and the pursuit, they 
dropped back and collected at the scene of the 
opening of the fight. They had lost half a dozen 
men and several of the others were wounded, but 


54 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


the victory was complete and amongst their pris- 
oners were two of the Redcoat officers. 

The boys came back among the last and the 
sight of the two brought cheers from the victors. 
The boys received these quietly and when the 
shouting was over, Dick stepped forward and 
spoke to them. 

“Let this be a lesson to you, friends,” he said 
soberly. “My friend Fritz and I were nearly 
murdered by you without proper trial and on en- 
tirely insufficient evidence. I think that the lit- 
tle parts that we have played in this combat have 
proved our loyalty to the cause of liberty, and 
both Fritz and I hope that any future prisoners 
will receive better treatment until they are proven 
guilty.” 

The men took Dick’s little talk to heart and 
when, after a long rest and a meal the boys left 
the band, they both felt that any other Patriots 
who were encountered by this particular band 
would receive the best of treatment. 


CHAPTER V. 


ABOARD THE SLOOP. 


HE captain of the sloop had managed to get 



** the door into his gun-room open just in 
time, for the mate, Tim and Tom had barely 
scrambled through when the sailors broke toward 
them in a rush. The captain slammed down the 
hatch and they all jumped on top, holding it in 
place while he clamped it fast. 

“I doubt if they will find the other entrance," 
the captain said. “The crew never knew of this 
place and they won't be likely to disturb us from 
the other side." 

“I guess they will be satisfied to have us boxed 
up here," said Dick. 

“And as far as I kin see it's satisfied they might 
be," returned Tim. “How should you figger we 
are goin’ to git out av the place?" 

“We'll wait around till it grows dark outside," 
replied the captain, in an undertone, “and then 
we’ll try to gain the after deck and clear those 


55 


56 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


villains off. Then we will have the ship in our 
control, so that, with proper luck we’ll run in 
near shore and drive the crew off the decks alto- 
gether. The four of us can handle this craft till 
we make a port and then we’ll be able to ship a 
loyal crew and not a parcel of thieves.” 

“Fine!” ejaculated Tim. “But why be waiting 
in this stuffy old box whin we might be lords 
of the ship by runnin’ the monkeys into the 
ocean ?” 

“No use taking chances, Tim,” replied Tom. 
“If they get us again we won’t make such an easy 
get away, you can bet.” 

“That’s right,” the captain commented. 
“They’d finish us this time if they could get their 
hands on us. W e have got to win or pay the pen- 
alty tonight.” 

These adverse opinions served to quiet Tim’s 
ardor, and he sat about with the rest waiting for 
night to throw its blanket of darkness over the 
scene, and for the rebellious crew to quiet down 
for the night. 

As the time wore on, the Patriots could hear 
the dull tramping of the mutineers in the cabin 
next to them, and the muffled sound of voices 
sifted through the heavy oak partitions. The 


ABOARD THE SLOOP 


57 


captain and Tom busied themselves with the mus- 
kets and ammunition, and after selecting four 
guns, a dirk and a cutlass for each of the party, 
did what they could to put the remaining arms 
out of commission. 

The sounds from the cabin had ceased now, 
and the four sat impatiently awaiting the moment 
when they could make their great dash for lib- 
erty. Gradually it grew quiet and when they de- 
cided that it was safe to venture through the 
cabin to the after-deck, they quietly loosened the 
trap and peered into the dimly lit cabin. 

The recumbent figures of half a dozen muti- 
neers were seen by the aid of the smoky swinging 
lamp. Judging from the sounds of heavy breath- 
ing, this particular party of sailors were fast 
asleep. * The captain, Tim, the mate and Tom 
crawled carefully through the opened trap, pushed 
it closed after them and tip-toed for the short 
ladder leading to the deck. 

The swinging doors at the top of the ladder 
banged at this moment and the four crouched 
down, fearing that they would have to start their 
battle then and there, and under most unfavorable 
circumstances. One of the men muttered, rolled 


58 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


over and resumed his heavy breathing and the 
danger was over for a moment. 

Following the captain, the three Patriots as- 
cended the steps, pushed the door open and with a 
rush made for the man at the wheel. Not ex- 
pecting an attack from this quarter, he was over- 
come with slight effort, and while Tim and the 
captain carried him to the ladder leading to the 
main deck, the mate took charge of the wheel 
and Tom made fast the cabin doors through 
which they had just emerged. 

“What’s going on up there?” came a voice 
from the lower deck. “Everything all right, eh?” 

“Sure, foine as silk,” shouted Tim. 

“Whot’s that?” the sailor queried, noticing the 
commotion about the wheel. 

“Your captain, you scoundrel!” that individu- 
al replied. “And now I guess we have got you 
fellows where you belong. The first man that 
starts for this deck gets what you all deserve.” 

“Tim!” called Tom. “You and the mate take 
the starboard ladder, and I’ll try the port. Don’t 
let ’em get within twenty feet of you. And don’t 
be afraid to use those muskets. That’s what 
we’ve toted ’em up here for.” 


ABOARD THE SLOOP 59 

“That’s it,” replied Tim. “There’ll be none of 
the crowd gets past us this night.” 

“Aye, aye,” chimed in the mate. “We’ll do 
our part and you just holler if you want any 
help.” 

“Oh, I’ll be all right,” answered Tom confident- 
ly. “I don’t think those fellows are armed and 
I guess these guns won’t appeal to them very 
favorably.” 

“Hard-a-lea !” yelled the captain. “I’m go- 
ing to try to hold her on the other tact and see if 
we don’t fetch up somewhere near the shore.” 

“Let her go,” responded Tom. “Guess the 
nearer that we get to land the better it will be 
for us,” 

“We can’t do much toward working the ship,” 
the captain said, “but I don’t see why we can’t 
hold her in the right direction as long as we have 
control of the wheel and the mainsail.” 

“Which we have,” put in Tim. 

“Yes, just at present,” responded the mate, at 
his side. “But there’s no telling for how long.” 

“Ahoy, on deck!” came a cry from the cabin. 
“What’s all this? Let us out, you lubbers!” 

“Can’t be done, me boys,” called out Tim. “We 
have quite enough av us here now.” 


60 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


This was followed by muffled blows on the 
cabin doors, but the heavy oak and the iron bar 
withstood all attempts to force it, and after fur- 
ther ineffectual efforts the group within aban- 
doned their efforts and sought escape in other 
directions. 

Tom could now distinguish the men on the 
lower deck quite plainly, and in a minute or two, 
one of them came aft toward him. 

“You fellows might as well give in now as 
ever,” said the sailor. “We will get you any- 
how, and it will go hard with you if we have 
any trouble with you.” 

“Well, if you leave it to us,” answered Tom, 
“we prefer to be gotten later, and in the mean- 
time, let me warn you that the next man that 
comes within twenty feet of these ladders gets 
what you all deserve.” 

“That’s fine talk, young fellow, but — ” and 
just then the sailor drew back his arm, hurled 
something violently at Tom and sprang back 
before Tom could recover from his surprise. 

A shining streak went past him and buried 
itself for an inch in the rail. 

“It’s a knife,” called out the captain. “You 


ABOARD THE SLOOP 


61 


want to be a little more careful and not let them 
get near enough again.” 

“You bet I will,” replied Tom, startled by his 
narrow escape. 

There was a moment's lull in the excitement, 
and then a crash resounded from directly below 
Tim’s feet. 

“Ouch!” yelled the Irish boy, and discharged 
his musket wildly into the darkness. 

“That was only a bucket of paint,” said Tom. 
“Don’t be so free with your bullets.” 

“Faith, an’ I thought it was all killed we were,” 
responded Tim, rather ashamed of his sudden 
alarm. 

“Not yet,” replied the mate, with a grim at- 
tempt at humor. 

“Cheer up,” said Tom, in the same strain. “The 
worst is yet to come.” 

It was evident to the four on the after deck 
that the mutineers were as yet without guns, for 
they would have picked off the boys where they 
stood against the sky line, had they been able. 

But the battle was not won yet, in fact it had 
hardly Degun. While the boys and the mate were 
gazing through the darkness at the knot of men 
near the forecastle, three sailors suddenly dashed 


62 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


from behind the main mast, and rushed for Tim’s 
position near the ladder. He and the mate fired 
in unison at them, and evidently wounded one of 
their number, for with a howl of pain from the 
foremost, the three scuttled back toward the bow. 

“That’s good, Tim,” called Tom. “We’ll hold 
’em all right, eh?” 

“Don’t want ’em near enough to hold,” replied 
Tim. 

“That’s painful,” 'commented the mate, at 
Tim’s attempted jest. 

“Get back there!” shouted Tom, catching sight 
of a dark form stealing along the bulwarks. 

But instead of getting back, the man jumped 
from the foot of Tom’s ladder, and grasped the 
upper steps. Tom discharged the musket almost 
in the fellow’s face, and with a groan he fell back 
on the deck. His comrades, however, now 
swarmed about the base of the ladder, and Tom, 
grasping his gun by the barrel, swung it with all 
his force on the head of the foremost sailor. 

The man following, however, succeeded in 
getting a foothold on the upper deck, and with 
an upraised dirk, drove Tom back from the lad- 
der. Tom swung at him with the clubbed musket, 
knocked the dirk out of his upraised hand, and 


ABOARD THE SLOOP 


63 


in another second was locked with him in hand 
to hand conflict. 

“Tim !” yelled Tom. 

“Coming!” answered Tim, and leaving the 
mate to guard their side, where the mutineers 
had been driven back, he rushed around the cabin 
to the aid of his friend. 

He was just in time. Tom and his opponent 
were rolling on the deck, each endeavoring to put 
the other out of the fight, and two more sailors 
were about to step upon the deck from the ladder. 

Leaving Tom to take care of himself, Tim at- 
tacked the ascending sailors. With a rush and 
wild shouts, he banged the foremost over the 
head and sent him crashing down upon the others 
of the group. Then firing his musket at the 
crowd, he completed their route, and the whole 
party fled to the shelter of the forecastle. 

“And now, where are ye, Tom?” he called. 

“Here,” Tom replied, coming from behind the 
cabin. “If I hadn’t hit that fellow on the arm 
before he closed with me, and knocked his dirk 
out of his grasp, he might have put me out of 
the way.” 

“Where did ye put him, though?” asked Tim. 

“Around here,” Tom said, pointing to a recum- 


64 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


bent figure on the deck, with a handkerchief in 
his mouth and his hands and feet tied. The sailor 
rolled with the rise and fall of the ship and seemed 
most uncomfortable. 

“The captain gave me a hand,” Tom explained, 
“or else I would never have finished tying him 
up.” 

“Better keep an eye out,” cautioned the mate. 
“Looks to me like they were going to make an- 
other try for the ladders.” 

“All right,” the boys replied, and exchanging 
an encouraging slap on the back, they took up 
their positions. 

“Holler, if you want to be saved agin,” in- 
structed Tim. 

But Tom did not reply, for when he crouched 
down and peered at the shadow of the deckhouse, 
where the group was, there was something about 
their attitude, as nearly as he could make out, that 
indicated preparations for a concerted attack. 

The repulse of the last assault had angered the 
mutineers, and they were now determined at all 
costs to overcome the little group on the after 
deck, and deal with them as they had planned. 

Meanwhile, the captain had been steadily hold- 


ABOARD THE SLOOP 


65 


in g the ship on the shore tack, and he figured that 
by daylight they would be in sight of land. 

The boys had not long to wait before the rush 
began. With a shout, the crew dashed along the 
deck, faltered for a moment as the three defend- 
ers fired at them, and then came on. 

The boys and the mate seized another musket 
each, and fired once more, this time in their 
opponents' very faces. But those behind pushed 
their frightened and wounded comrades aside and 
started up the ladders. The larger party made 
for Tom, while just enough to make things inter- 
esting surged up and down the ladder that Tim 
and the mate were guarding. Had one of them 
left to aid Tom, the other would probably have 
been overpowered. So Tom had his hands full, 
and although he kept the leaders from gaining the 
deck, he was slowly tiring from his exertions, 
and he knew that before long the mutineers would 
have him overpowered. 

Tom was growing dizzy, and the ceaseless 
swinging and thrusting with his musket was 
weakening, when from the forward hatch burst 
a fresh group of men shouting wildly and rush- 
ing for the rear of the mutineers. The attack- 
ing party turned to meet what they thought was 


66 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


a new foe, and Tom sank back against the cabin 
thoroughly exhausted. 

“She’s afire ! Save yourselves !” the new arrivals 
were shouting. “She’s afire! The hold is burn- 
ing!” 

The words came dimly to Tom’s ears, and he 
dropped to the deck with a feeling that at last 
rest had come, and all was over. 

But not for long. Tim and the mate came 
upon him lying there, and picking him up bodily, 
carried him to the rail. There the captain was 
working desperately over the boat on the davits, 
and the mate turned to help him. In a few 
moments they had the ropes loosed, and placing 
Tom in the bottom of the boat they all climbed 
in and lowered away. The dory struck the water, 
rose on the next wave, and was away from the 
ship. They pulled out the oars from under the 
seats, put them in place and rowed away. The 
sailors were rushing wildly about the decks seek- 
ing some means of escape. 

“Great heavens!” ejaculated the captain. “That 
hold’s full of powder. They’ll all be blown to 
kingdom come!” 

The little party were staggered by this sudden 
destruction that was overtaking their enemies, 


ABOARD THE SLOOP 


67 


but there was nothing they could do, and they 
must save themselves. The rowers redoubled 
their efforts, and before they had gotten any great 
distance from the doomed vessel the waters were 
shaken with a great blast, and a pillar of flame 
shot up into the night, and the light showed the 
two halves of the ship split apart, with the bal- 
ance of the sailors clinging to the wreckage and 
trying to climb aboard the floating skeleton of 
the wreck. 


CHAPTER VI. 


ON THE MARCH. 

T HE long fight and their narrow escape had so 
tired Dick and Fritz that after going a few 
miles further, the two Patriots decided to make 
camp and get a much needed rest. They had got- 
ten fairly well along on their trip, and in spite of 
their forced halts had covered a good deal of 
ground. 

The boys turned aside from the road; dis- 
mounted and leading their horses, struck into the 
woods for a space. When they had reached a 
slight hollow far enough from the path of travel, 
to conceal their fire, they threw off their kits, and 
undertook the preparation of a meal. 

Dick cut a few strips of bacon, kneaded a cup 
full of flour, and set Fritz to gathering dry leaves, 
twigs and heavy wood to keep the fire blazing. 
They were both dog-tired, but neither uttered 
the slightest complaint, and by the time the cof- 
fee was bubbling and the bacon sizzling over the 
68 


ON THE MARCH 


69 


camp fire both boys felt a great deal better, and 
fell to with keen appetites on their rough meal. 

“This is better than taking any chances at a 
farm house,” said Dick. “Those soldiers we 
chased to-day may come back along this road, 
and we might get into their clutches again. I 
don’t think we would get out as easily next time.” 

“Vat mit climbin’ chimneys, und hidin’ unter 
straw heabs, und running und fightin’ — ” 

“Anything else you can think of, Fritz?” asked 
Dick, laughingly, as Fritz stopped for breath. 

“Vat happened is happened, anyhow,” said 
Fritz, “und it’s a good thing dot Irisher Tim 
vasn’t along to get us into more troubles.” 

Dick roared at this comment on their friend, 
and refused to spoil the joke by telling the Ger- 
man what he was laughing at. It was plain that 
Fritz accounted himself a skilful messenger, and 
didn’t see that part of their troubles had been 
occasioned by his own good intentioned, but ill- 
considered acts. 

The boys talked for a while, and then when 
the night grew chilly they rolled up singly in 
their blankets and soon dropped off to sleep. 

For a wonder they passed the night in peace 
and quiet. Either the English had passed them 


70 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


in the dark, or they hadn’t gotten up enough 
enterprise to prompt them to renew the pursuit 
after their defeat that afternoon. 

The rising sun saw the boys up and ready for 
their march. A dip into the nearby creek, a hasty 
breakfast, and they were off on their trip to Vin- 
cennes. 

At noon that day they rode boldly up to the 
door of a farm house, and asked a surly looking 
grey-haired farmer for a meal, for which they 
would gladly pay what was fair. The man’s face 
brightened visibly at the mention of payment, and 
after looking them over again, he drawled, “Wall, 
I reckon you two young uns kin get a bit here, 
providin’ you’re able to pay fer it.” 

“Sure,” answered Fritz, holding out a hand- 
ful of coin with which he was equipped for trav- 
eling. 

The man’s eyes narrowed a little at the sight 
of the money, but he didn’t express any surprise, 
and nodding toward the stable, said, “Just stow 
your nags in there and come in. We’ll have 
somethin’ ready in a minit.” 

As they turned toward the stable Dick thought 
he saw another form through the half-open door 
of the kitchen, but the vision was so uncertain 


ON THE MARCH 


71 


that he dismissed the thought and busied him- 
self with his horse. 

“Dot money opened the old crab’s eyes, yes?” 
chuckled Fritz. 

“Seemed to me he closed them,” said Dick. 
“I’m afraid it isn’t wise to show more than one 
coin at a time, Fritz.” 

“Dot old feller couldn’t do notings,” boasted 
the German boy. “And besides I don’t always 
got so much to show.” 

“Oh, I guess everything is all right,” replied 
Dick, “but I thought the old man looked rather 
interested at your display of good money.” 

“Veil, id don’t do him any no good,” returned 
Fritz. “He gets enough for vat fer meals he 
gives us, und dot’s all.” 

The boys now walked up to the house, and 
entered the kitchen. Again Dick thought he saw 
someone in the front room, but he couldn’t inves- 
tigate, and besides, what of it? There were un- 
doubtedly others in the house. 

The farmer appeared to have prepared the meal 
himself, and as he set it before them he plied 
them with questions. 

“Bin fightin’ ?” he queried. 


72 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Some/' replied Dick, his mouth full of hot 
potato. 

“Which side?” asked the farmer. 

“Patriot, of course.” 

“Of course,” agreed the old man. 

“Sure,” said Fritz, and Dick kicked him in 
the shins. 

“Hear them British is about knocked out,” con- 
tinued their host. 

“They will be before long,” Dick answered. 
“They are getting enough of this chasing up and 
down the country, and finding food scarce and 
enemies plentiful.” 

“They ain’t all enemies, though.” 

“No, there are a few good for nothing Tories 
left,” said Dick. 

“That’s kind o’ hard talk,” the old man 
drawled. 

“They ought to be called worse than that,” 
Dick returned sharply. 

“S’pose I was one, myself?” 

Fritz choked at the very thought of such a 
possibility, and Dick began to look about for the 
cause of the farmer’s long conversation. At that 
instant there came a long whistle from outside 
the house, and with a bound the farmer reached 


ON THE MARCH 


73 


the door and stood in front of it. Dick sprang 
from his stool, grabbed the old man roughly about 
the shoulders, and hurled him from his position 
at the door. He ran outside, followed by Fritz, 
who had started to his comrade’s assitance, and 
discovered their two horses going at a gallop 
down the road, led by a young man on a third 
horse. 

“So that’s their little game,” cried Dick. 

“Come on, ve’ll catch him,” yelled Fritz, and 
started headlong in pursuit. 

Dick ran with him, but it was soon evident to 
both of them that the longer they ran the farther 
behind they got. So they slowed down to a walk, 
and as they reached the top of a long wooded 
hill, they stopped to get their breath. 

“I’ll climb up that old tree, I guess,” said Dick. 
“Maybe we can see something of the rascals from 
the top.” 

“Yah, und I’ll go too up,” commented Fritz. 

So the two started climbing, and Dick grad- 
ually worked his way toward the upper branches 
of an aged oak. When he had almost reached 
the top he heard a loud crash, and looking below 
saw his good friend land with a dull thud on the 
mossy ground beneath. 


74 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“What’s the trouble?” called Dick. 

“Troubles enough,” responded the startled 
boy. “Dot old tree is so shaky dot I don’t see 
how you up climbed him.” 

This statement occasioned so much laughter 
on Dick’s part, that the old monarch of the forest 
in retribution pretty nearly landed him on the 
ground beside Fritz, and it was only by hurriedly 
grasping the nearest branches and steadying him- 
self that Dick retained his position. 

“Veil, vhere is he at?” questioned Fritz, refer- 
ring to the person whom they had seen making 
away with their horses. 

“Can’t see him at all,” Dick replied, scanning 
the road for a view of the vanished horseman. 
“That’s funny, too, Fritz, for I can see way ahead 
of where he should be.” 

“Maype he is hiding,” conjectured the German. 

“By George!” ejaculated Dick. 

“How do you know his name?” asked Fritz. 

“Don’t,” responded Dick. “Look here, Fritz. 
There is another road running parallel with this 
one, a little further down in the valley.” 

“Veil, dot don’t help us any yet,” replied Fritz. 
“One road is enough to valk on. No, yes?” 

“But I’ll bet it does help us, you lazy goose. 


ON THE MARCH 


75 


That fellow may have gone across to it through 
the woods, and if we hurry, we’ll head him off.” 

Dick came down rapidly and the two rushed 
off through the brush and timber toward the road 
which Dick had discovered. 

“Be a little careful about making any noise,” 
cautioned Dick. “If that fellow hears us floun- 
dering about in this way, he will take alarm and 
ride off again, and then where would all your 
tree climbing and running help you?” 

“Py golly, running is bad, but no more shaky 
trees for me,” replied Fritz. 

They could now see the opening ahead of them 
where the road ran through. It was a rough log 
track, and unless in a desperate hurry, no one 
would think of galloping over it. The two boys 
crouched behind the wall of foliage that reached 
to the road’s edge, and were almost ready to aban- 
don all hope of meeting their man, when from 
down the road came the sound of whistling, and 
presently the young^Tory and the trio of horses 
came in sight. 

The youth evidently assumed that he was now 
perfectly safe from pursuit, and was proceeding 
leisurely back to the farm house with his prize. 
Probably he would have soon left the horses in 


76 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


the woods, and then have gone to the farm house 
alone to get the lay of the land, but if such had 
been his intention, it was rudely interrupted by 
the two* Patriots whose mounts he was so calmly 
leading. 

With a shout which could be heard a mile, Dick 
and Fritz leaped from their ambush and grasped 
the startled Tory’s horse. Fritz held tight to the 
bit and Dick grabbed the young farmer by the 
leg and pulled him out of the saddle. 

Dick then proceeded to administer a sound and 
much deserved thrashing to the cause of their 
trouble, and when the young fellow recovered 
partially from his surprise, he broke away and 
started on a dead run for the farm house. Dick 
had neither time or desire to pursue him, and was 
well satisfied with recovering their steeds, and 
Fritz was particularly delighted with the addition 
of one horse to their party. The Tory was well 
out of reach by now, and before he turned to dive 
into the safety of the woods, he shouted, placing 
his hands to his mouth to form a megaphone, 
‘'Next time I’ll get you, you rebels!” 

“That fellow seems familiar to me somehow,” 
said Dick. “I wonder where we’ve seen him 
before ?” 


ON THE MARCH 


77 


“Oh — ah — I’ve got it,” stuttered Fritz. 

“Got what?” asked Dick. 

“Dot’s the same feller you pushed in the ditch 
already, the day we started out.” 

“You’re right,” answered Dick. “That’s who 
it is.” 

“Sure, I’m right,” returned Fritz, as if such 
was always the case. 

“I wonder what he’s doing here. He must 
have followed us after that little meeting we first 
had. Do you know, Fritz, I believe that fellow 
has been responsible for the close attention we 
have been getting all along the line. But what 
can his object be?” 

This was too much for Fritz’s detective pow- 
ers, and he gave up the matter as beyond explana- 
tion. But Dick didn’t, and it bothered him for 
some time as they rode rapidly along with their 
captive horse tugging at the line behind them. 

The log road seemed to take the right direction, 
and rather than search through the woods for the 
main highway, the boys held to it. It was com- 
fortable riding here too, and the overhanging 
branches served to keep the hot afternoon sun 
from bothering the travelers. 

The boys rode in silence, broken only by occa- 


78 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


sional comments upon their stormy trip thus far, 
and sometimes they spoke of the small wild 
furry folk scampering away through the under- 
brush aroused by the intrusion of these strangers 
upon their domains. 

The calm of a warm summer afternoon in the 
forest settled upon the boys, and they were both 
glad of the relief, after their continued excite- 
ment and vigilance. Dick’s thoughts traveled 
back to their home up north, and lingered longer 
than necessary on a very close relative of Ben 
Foster’s, namely, Ben’s sister. And when he re- 
covered with a guilty start from those pleasant 
memories, his mind roamed again to Ben, him- 
self, lying in the Charleston hospital, with Tom 
and Tim, bless them, watching over him. 

They, too, were perhaps under way by this time 
and before long they would either meet where 
the trail struck in across the mountains, or they 
would be traveling very closely after one another. 
And yet, in the unforeseen future, one of them 
might fail to complete that journey. But no, 
Dick refused to entertain such discouraging 
thoughts. 

Dick came to with a start. He had been doz- 
ing there in the shade of the great forest trees; 


ON THE MARCH 


79 


in fact, Fritz was still half asleep in his saddle. 
The horses had walked steadily on, all this time, 
however, and now they were back in the main 
roadway again. 

“Wake up, old man!” called Dick. 

“Yah. Um,” yawned Fritz, coming back to 
earth. 

“We have got to keep our eyes open, now,” 
said Dick. 

And they did, until some time after night fall, 
when both of them, tired with the day's march, 
climbed from their saddles, walked back into the 
sparsely covered timber land with their horses, 
and prepared for another night in the open. 


CHAPTER VII. 


ON THE BEACH. 


HE day was just beginning to break in the 



East when the little wave-tossed boat bear- 
ing the Patriot survivors of the ill-fated ship, 
drew in sight of land. The first bright rays of the 
rising sun showed the low fringe of shore to the 
four in the boat, and it was a very welcome sight 
indeed. Tom had now recovered his strength, and 
was anxious to take his place at the oars, but 
although his comrades were tired out with several 
hours’ rowing, they refused to allow him to exert 
himself till he had fully recovered from the strain 
of the night’s battle. Tom's part in that fight 
had been the hardest, and he had certainly shown 
himself to be a true Dare, fearless and strong in 
all circumstances. 

As the light grew stronger, Tim, who was in 
the bow, exclaimed, “Faith, and it seems to me 
they are cooking our breakfast for us.” 

Although the rest had no idea who “they” 


80 


ON THE BEACH 


81 


referred to, all looked towards the distant shore, 
and it seemed, as Tim had said, that several thin 
streams of smoke were rising and joining into a 
heavier column above the treetops. 

“Looks like signs of an encampment,” said 
Tom. “I wonder whether they are friends or 
enemies ?” 

“Frinds or inimies makes no difference at all,” 
answered Tim. “We’ll not be able to keep on 
cruising in this little tub much longer, and if they 
are inimies sure we’ll be after tellin’ them we 
have but just left a good boat belongin’ to the 
sailors of King George, which will be but the 
plain truth, and that of all the grand company 
that sailed to fight the inimies of the King, we 
are the only ones left.” 

“It might be a wise thing to evade arrest or 
imprisonment if they are English troops,” said 
Tom, “but we’ll hope they are Patriots till we 
know to the contrary. What do you think about 
it, captain?” 

“Well, it’s certain that I don’t want to be 
penned up till the end of this war, and it seems 
to me that if we all stick to Tim’s story, we may 
remove any suspicion and be allowed our liberty.” 

“Sure, and in this game it’s only right and 


82 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


proper to keep your liberty,” replied Tim. “And 
remember, Tom, you have got work ahead of you 
before we get to ” 

“Where we are going,” interposed Tom, 
quickly, anxious to have everything regarding his 
journey kept as secret as possible. He knew that 
the mate and the captain were perfectly loyal to 
the cause, but his instructions were to keep his 
destination to himself, and he intended to do so. 

Tim, thus admonished, said no more. 

The boat had drawn nearer the shore now, and 
all four were keenly and somewhat anxiously 
watching the beach for signs of the men they 
knew must be there. 

They had not long to wait, for in a few min- 
utes a whole company tumbled out of the woods 
and ran down to the beach for their morning 
swim. As they were in the act of undressing, one 
of them caught sight of a boat containing the 
Patriots. 

“Hi, there, comrades,” he shouted, “we are 
having early visitors.” 

Several of the men ran back for their rifles, and 
so Tom stuck up an oar with his handkerchief 
knotted at the end of it, as a signal of friendship. 


ON THE BEACH 


83 


The mate and Tim pulled straight for the group 
on the beach. 

“Better make it seem as though we are glad 
to see them,” the mate suggested. “If they take 
us for Tories, we will be free to go our own way, 
but if they suspect our real feelings we will cer- 
tainly be in troubled 

So they rowed steadily shoreward, pointing the 
nose of their little craft for the group of British 
troops. 

“Ahoy on shore!” shouted Tim. “We are 
after cornin’ from his majesty’s royal fleet, and 
want to spake with your officers.” 

Tim grinned as he shouted this, and all the 
party wondered how his story would be taken. 

“You’ll see them quick enough,” replied one 
of the Redcoats. “Plenty quick enough if you 
are friends of his majesty’s — God bless him — and 
too quick if you are not.” 

Some of the soldiers ran out into the surf and 
pulled the boat in when they had about reached 
the beach, and with many expressions of thank- 
fulness and apparent joy the Patriots tumbled 
out and joined the English. 

“We are the last of a strong little crew and a 


84 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


good ship/’ volunteered the captain. “The other 
poor boys went down with the ship.” 

“And what may you be doing here, when, as 
far as I can see, a captain is supposed to stick 
till the last?” 

“We were rowing about, trying to pick up this 
man who had fallen overboard,” invented the cap- 
tain, who had been caught in a peculiar position. 
In fact, as this instance shows, and as the boys 
well knew, it is both unwise and difficult to at- 
tempt deception, even in a good cause. 

“A likely thing to my way of thinking,” said 
the soldier. “Captains do not generally go over- 
board after sailors when they fall over, do they ?” 

“Not generally,” said Tom. “But the captain 
and I had been good friends, and he was anxious 
to save me quickly.” 

“Guess this must be a matter for the officers,” 
said one . of the men. “They will pretty soon 
find out whether these fellows are what they claim 
to be or not.” 

Now,. Tom had a great dislike for being seen 
by the officers, for his activities wdth Dick had 
often thrown him into the enemy’s hands, and 
he was afraid that some of his former captors 
might be with this party. Therefore to gain a 


ON THE BEACH 


85 


little time, he said, “Now, see here, boys, every- 
thing you will find to be all right and satisfactory, 
and before we go to see the general or whoever 
it is that has command, we would like to take a 
dip in the surf and get freshened up a bit. Row- 
ing around all night in an open boat doesn’t help 
your appearance any, and we’ll just join you 
boys in a swim, if you don’t mind, {Then we’ll 
all be ready to go up and straighten things out.” 

“That’s all right, young feller,” sakj the 
spokesman of the troops, a corporal, “you can 
have your swim all right, but don’t you be too 
sure it will be as easy to straighten things out as 
you think.” 

“Good,” said Tom. “That’s fine. And we’ll 
be able to explain everything later on.” 

Meanwhile, Tom’s mind had been working 
rapidly, and he saw that they would easily ferret 
out the truth of the story as long as there were 
four of them to question. He didn't see how 
Tim and he could be any worse off by facing 
the matter out. It was about time for Dick and 
Fritz to be along in that part of the country, too, 
for their trip overland would take them longer 
than Tom had taken, being driven rapidly up 
the coast by the storm. Therefore, it seemed to 


86 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


him that if he could manage to get the captain 
and the mate out of the way, it would be better 
all around. So, when the party prepared to re- 
move their clothes, Tom whispered to the captain : 

“Captain, we can’t stop to argue matters out 
to form any detailed plan, but Tim and I will 
start some kind of a fuss in the water now, and 
while we keep their attention, you and the mate 
float quietly down the shore on your backs till 
you reach those plum bushes — see them? — those 
beach plums down there.” Tom motioned with 
his eyes. “It’s a great joke being taken for rebels 
isn’t it?” he said in a louder voice as a soldier 
approached. “One would think we looked like 
desperadoes.” 

The captain smiled and nodded his head, and 
Tom saw that he was answering his instructions. 

“Come along, you fellows,” shouted the cor- 
poral, “we haven’t got all morning for this swim.” 

“All right. We’re ready,” answered Tom, and 
they all trotted down to the water’s edge. 

“Gee, it’s cold,” chattered Tom. 

“Faith, and if your lordship will wait a mo- 
ment, I’ll warm it for you,” replied Tim, giving 
Tom a vigorous push that sent him floundering 
out to his waist. 


ON THE BEACH 


87 


'Til fix you for that,” shouted Tom, seeing 
that Tim had unconsciously started the excite- 
ment that he wanted. 

Tom ran back and headed Tim up the shore 
away from the plum bushes. They raced about 
fifty yards, and at the shout of the soldiers, who 
were all watching their antics with interest, Tim 
ducked and rushed out into the water. Tom was 
on his heels and they began a spirited water-fight, 
of which Tim soon had enough, and he turned 
and dove through an oncoming wave and struck 
out lustily to evade Tom. 

Things were working out better than Tom had 
expected, and the soldiers, amused by the spir- 
ited fight the two boys were waging, followed 
them up the beach and gave the mate and the 
captain an excellent chance to scurry down the 
water line with their clothes in their hands. 

' Tom, keeping far enough from Tim to encour- 
age him, and yet near enough to keep the interest 
of the troopers, saw the naked figures go out of 
sight around a sand dune near the beach plums. 
If he could only give them a few more minutes 
they would be safe, and after some more running, 
and a moment’s stop to don their clothes, would 
be out of the soldier’s reach. And Tom didn’t 


88 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


imagine that they would ever let the troops get 
close enough to catch them, either. 

“I’ve got you now, you Irish villain,” he yelled 
at the sputtering Tim. Tom reached out and 
caught the flying foot in front of him, and in a 
minute had Tim ducked head-foremost under the 
water. 

The soldiers set up a shout of laughter at this, 
and letting Tim come to the surface, Tom re- 
newed the splash-fight, treading meanwhile with 
his feet. Tim, however had had quite enough by 
this time, and was heading for land as fast as 
his tired arms and legs would propel him. 

He arrived sputtering and breathless, and 
shouted as best he could with a mouth full of salt 
water, “Enough. I’ve got enough, you old duck. 
Just ’cause I give you a frindly pat, up you go 
and chase me over the face of the whole earth.” 

“If that was a friendly pat, I’m glad you didn’t 
push me hard,” replied Tom, laughing. 

A bugle rang out in the woods just then, and 
the men made a hasty dive for their clothes, some 
of them not even stopping to dry perfectly. While 
they were rushing around, a group of officers 
appeared at the edge of the timber on their way 
to the beach. 


ON THE BEACH 


89 


“Where are those other two?” suddenly 
queried the corporal, recalled to his sense of duty 
by the appearance of the officers. 

“Gone on up to the camp, I suppose,” said Tim. 
“Sure, an’ if they were as hungry as me they 
would be eating ye out of house and home by 
now.” 

Tom felt that by this time the two sailors had 
gotten a fair start, and his spirits were rising 
proportionately, when of a sudden a shot, fol- 
lowed by several scattering reports, rang out. 

“Come along, you two!” shouted the corporal, 
and the two boys were hustled unceremoniously 
up the beach, donning their clothes as best they 
could while trotting along. The officers had 
turned and dashed back toward the encampment, 
and when the soldiers with their captives reached 
there the whole place was in confusion, with 
troops rushing in all directions, shouting and fir- 
ing their muskets at random into the woods. 

“This cooks our goose,” said Tom. “They are 
evidently disturbed at something, and I can see 
where we come in for our share of the trouble.” 

“It must be the captain and the mate they are 
blazing at,” suggested Tim. “Sure, and they 


90 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


will never hit a thing at all at the rate they are 
firin’ and rushin’ around.” 

“I hope they don’t,” said Tom. 

“Come this way, ye rebels!” bellowed the ex- 
cited corporal. 

“Don’t pay any attention when he calls us 
rebels,” said Tom. “Don’t let him see that we 
recognize the name at all.” 

At their apparent indifference to his com- 
mands, the corporal ran up and grasping them 
each by an arm, hurried up to the central tent. 
An officer in a major’s uniform was talking to 
a young man as they were brought up, and gave 
no heed to their presence till he was finished. 

The boys listened eagerly, and were greatly as- 
tonished to hear what was going on between the 
two. 

“A piece of rank carelessness on the part of the 
men,” the major was saying. “They were both 
securely guarded, and should never have escaped, 
but the minute our backs are turned these hired 
troops forget their duty, and everything else but 
themselves, and give those rascals a chance that 
they didn’t overlook.” 

“There’ll be the dickens to pay when this gets 
to headquarters,” said the young fellow in civil- 


ON THE BEACH 


91 


ian’s clothes. “We have got to get them again, 
or we will have to pay for it. I’ve followed those 
two for a full week or more, and had them almost 
secure three times, and every time they slip away 
when they seem safest. When we get them again 
we’ll have to let nothing stand in the way of their 
safe return to Charleston.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get them again,” returned 
the major. “With this force at our disposal, two 
young fellows like that can never successfully 
escape us for long.” 

“They better not or we might as well stay away 
too,” replied the young man. “And, besides, I 
have a little personal matter to settle with one of 
them.” 

“So that’s what makes you so anxious to get 
them, is it?” queried the officer. 

“That makes me doubly anxious,” answered 
the younger man. 

“Do you know who they are talking about?” 
asked Tom, in a whisper. 

“Sure, and it must be Dick Dare and Fritz,” 
answered Tim. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE AMBUSH. 

p\ ICK DARE and Fritz journeyed for several 
days without anything happening to im- 
pede their progress, and they had made up most 
of the time that had been lost in their earlier es- 
capades. They took no chances at night and slept 
out in the open rather than risk capture or trou- 
ble in a farm house. 

Their midday meals they .had bought from 
farmers, and had eaten them standing by their 
horses, not caring to experience another loss of 
those faithful animals. 

The boys’ spirits rose with their long freedom 
from trouble, and although they still kept a sharp 
outlook for signs of the enemy, they didn’t find 
anything to disturb them. 

If it had not been for Dick’s persistent efforts 
to hurry, Fritz would have considered the whole 
affair as an outing for pleasure only, but as it 
was, their hard traveling and short rests kept 
92 


THE AMBUSH 


93 


him always on the go, and he never felt that he 
had had quite enough sleep. Dick was tireless 
and seemed only to think of the haste they were 
in, and pushed ahead for Vincennes relentlessly. 
Their long immunity from trouble had lulled 
Dick into too great a sense of safety, and it was 
while eating their supper one evning by the road- 
side that the boys were startled by a bugle call in 
the woods which lay back of them. 

They jumped to their feet, seized the bridles, 
and climbing hastily into their saddles, started 
full tilt up the road. Almost instantly a party of 
Redcoats stepped out and halted their progress 
in that direction. Wheeling hastily, the boys cov- 
ered about a hundred yards back, fearing that at 
any moment a volley would follow them, but not 
a gun was fired, and just as they began to feel 
new hope, another group of soldiers appeared 
before them, blocking their way completely. 

Dick turned desperately toward the fences at 
the roadside, but the road was lined with Red- 
coated, grinning troopers. 

“An ambush!” cried Dick. 

“Trapped good and proper this time, young 
feller,” observed a corporal, smiling with satis- 
faction. “Guess you two have kept away from 


94 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


us long enough. Come along and see the major.’" 

The boys were surrounded, and both Fritz and 
Dick saw that escape was out of the question at 
present, so both decided to take things coolly 
and make the best of a bad situation. 

The major, accompanied by his brother offi- 
cers, stood in the road as the captives were led 
up, and showed his satisfaction at their capture. 
Dick and Fritz were both startled to see the 
young southerner with the group, and he in par- 
ticular seemed immensely pleased to get the boys 
again. 

“You two have led us a pretty chase, and 
should be working in a better cause,” said the 
major. 

“But they are on the wrong side of the fence 
this time,” said the young fellow Dick had rolled 
into the ditch the first day out. “And that Dare 
boy has been almost hanged so many times that 
the general will take great pleasure in finishing 
the job this time, Fm sure.” 

“It seems that we are your prisoners,” said 
Dick, turning to the officer. “I trust you will 
save us the indignity of being insulted by that 
young boor at your side.” 

“Seems to be some little feeling, eh?” chuckled 


THE AMBUSH 


95 


the officer. “All right, my young bantam, you 
and your friend can join the men, I guess, and 
we will see that your company is selected most 
carefully.” 

“Dot’s imbossible, in this troop,” said Fritz to 
Dick, but no one else heard him. 

The two Patriots were placed on horseback, 
and with their wrists tied together, and a rope 
passed to two troopers the company passed on up 
the road. 

They turned out from the main road soon and 
pitched camp on a wooded slope leading down to 
the sea, where the sound of the breakers soon 
lulled the tired Redcoats to sleep. 

The boys were placed near a large fire, and 
were securely guarded. Dick and Fritz were 
both tired out, and after seeing that there was 
no immediate hope of escape or help, both rolled 
over and joined their captors in slumberland. 

Early the next morning the camp was astir, 
and the boys saw the men prepare for a dip into 
the surf. 

“It would be dandy to have a little plunge in 
those breakers,” said Dick. “How about you, 
Fritz?” 


96 THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 

“Yah, I suppose it would, but I bet it’s cold,’ , 
replied the German, rubbing his eyes. 

“Can we go along with you men ?” asked Dick. 

“I’ll see about it,” answered one, walking to- 
ward the officers’ tents. 

He returned in a moment with a favorable 
reply, and in a jiffy the boys were racing down 
the sands with the first group of men. 

After an invigorating plunge in the cold waves, 
the boys dressed and returned to the camp. All 
there were astir by now, and the two prisoners 
were conducted to the centre of the encampment 
and left in charge of two soldiers. Various 
groups were assembled about their respective 
fires, and all wxre eagerly hastening the prepara- 
tion of their morning meal. From each group 
certain ones were despatched into the surround- 
ing forest to gather a liberal supply of firewood, 
while others measured out portions of coffee, 
flour and bacon. 

The cooks fussed importantly over the fires, 
ordering the men about in tones they would not 
dare to use when away from their important posi- 
tions. At meal times the cooks of a camp are 
always the autocrats. 

Dick and Fritz sniffed the air hungrily and 


Till AMBUSH 


97 


thanked fortune that at least they would not be 
starved to death. 

“There doesn’t seem to be any hope of escape 
just now, does there?” said Dick. 

Fritz wrinkled up his nose and gazed thought- 
fully about him. 

“For myself, I don’t care about escapes till 
after we eat somedings,” he returned. 

“Then you had better eat it soon,” Dick com- 
mented, “for if we get a chance we won’t stay 
around for breakfast. The rest of the troop are 
all going down to the water now, and if we have 
any opportunity at all this morning it is apt to 
come now.” 

As Dick had said, the balance of the troop, by 
far the largest part, were leaving for a dip in 
the ocean, while the breakfast preparations and 
prisoners were left in charge of the first little 
company who had gone in when the boys did. 

“Let’s wander over by the beach and watch 
the crowd,” suggested Dick. 

“All right. Dot’s as good as anyding, only I 
would like to hurry those cooks again yet,” re- 
plied Fritz. “Dot cooking of bacons is bad for 
my appetite, already. If they don’t make it done 
soon already I would eat it unraw.” 


98 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“You’re mighty particular about your food, 
seeing you’re a prisoner,” laughed Dick. 

“In this war it is no fair to torture prisoners,” 
answered Fritz with spirit. “Und dat’s what 
those Redgoats is doing me to.” 

“Look at that out there!” exclaimed Dick 
Dare, pointing as he spoke to a little dark spot 
bobbing on the waves in the distance. The boys 
had reached the edge of the trees by now, and 
were forbidden by the soldiers to go any further. 

“Fritz shaded his eyes with both hands and 
squinted in the direction indicated by Dick. 

“Looks like a log,” said Fritz. 

“Not to me,” replied Dick. “Seems to me 
that there are people in a small boat. Wonder 
what they can possibly be doing out there at this 
time of the morning?” 

“Dot’s right. It’s peobles!” exclaimed Fritz. 
“Und they are goming this way.” 

The boys watched the approach of the boat 
with great interest, and when the party on board 
stood up to disembark, Dick Dare gave a sud- 
den start. 

“That’s funny, but it can’t be them,” he mut- 
tered. 

“Fritz, do you see anything familiar about the 


THE AMBUSH 


99 


figures in the boat?” he questioned in an eager 
whisper. 

Before Fritz could study the landing party 
more closely, the two boys were ordered back to 
the camp fires, and try as they might to get 
another view of the beach, and the new arrivals, 
they were unable to move far enough away from 
their guards to do so. 

“That’s bad luck,” grumbled Dick. “I had an 
idea that Tim and Tom were in that boat. But 
just when we might have been able to make them 
out, off we are hustled, and I don’t know now 
whether it was them or not.” 

“If it was, they will be here plenty soon 
enough,” said Fritz. “And then when we are 
all together once, who will get to Vincennes in 
dime already?” 

“That would be bad,” said Dick, seriously. 
“If this one group of soldiers should round up 
both parties of us, I’m afraid the general’s mes- 
sage will never get through, and we’ll all swing 
for our past adventures in this awful war. But 
come, don’t let’s worry about things that we are 
only guessing at. That may not be Tom and 
Tim, and really, I don’t see how it could be.” 

For about fifteen minutes nothing new hap- 


100 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


pened, and Fritz and Dick began to hope that 
Dick had been mistaken in his surmise that Tom 
and Tim were coming ashore. 

Then of a sudden they heard a great crashing 
in the woods where the horses were tethered, and 
shouts of, ‘Tm aboard, mate,” and “Shake ’em 
out, captain,” came plainly to their ears through 
the trees. 

The soldiers about the fires grabbed up their 
guns and dashed into the woods toward the 
horses, and the boys could see for one brief in- 
stant two galloping forms go thundering off 
through the woods toward the road. The 
muskets cracked and the troopers shouted dire 
threats at the two men, but although the chase 
soon drew out of sight, Dick didn’t think that 
either of the men had been hit, and at the rate 
they were going he was quite sure that they 
would not be overtaken. 

The excitement of the moment had left Dick 
without thought for his own situation, and it 
was Fritz who realized that for a moment they 
were alone. He heard the officers returning to 
camp from the beach, and grabbing Dick by the 
arm, he scurried off in a direction half way be- 


THE AMBUSH 


101 


tween that taken by the pursuing soldiers and 
returning officers. 

“Nefer mind the breakfast/’ Fritz cried, aban- 
doning his greatest need in the excitement. “Let 
us out get.” 

“Good boy,” exclaimed Dick. “You have your 
wits with you to-day, for sure.” 

They had no time to talk further, however. 
The returning soldiers would soon be hard on 
their trail, and without horses, they had but a 
slim chance of making good their escape. The 
confusion, and the two parties, however, helped 
them more than they had hoped. They reached 
the road, crossed it and entered the woods on 
the other side without being seen. 

Dick and Fritz ran on until they felt that if 
they did not rest soon their heads would burst. 
Stumbling along, keeping the sun over their right 
shoulders they finally came out upon a great body 
of water. It was the Chesapeake, and both of 
them dropped flat on their stomachs and bathed 
their tired heads in the cold salt water. 

“This is all right, if we can only get a canoe 
now,” said Dick, standing up and feeling greatly 
refreshed. 

“It don’t look so very fine to me,” replied 


102 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


Fritz. “We are here together, yet with nothing 
to eat, nothing to shoot with und nothing to go 
somewheres with ” 

“Nothing to be hung with either. You better 
remember that and be happy,” said Dick. “We 
were comfortable in the British camp, maybe, 
but we had a noose waiting for us sooner or later, 
you know.” 

“Und ve’ll keep it vaiting already,” responded 
Fritz, very much cheered by this viewpoint. 


CHAPTER IX. 


IN CAMP. 

RING those two in here,” said the major to 

■■-'the corporal, who was holding Tom Dare 
and Tim. 

He retired to the tent, and sat down on a small 
stool beside a camp table. The boys were pushed 
forward into the tent and stood before the British 
officer. There was no fear in their glances, and 
in fact they seemed the coolest members of the 
party. 

“What have got to say for yourselves?” ques- 
tioned the major severely. 

“What have we got to say for ourselves?” 
repeated Tom, speaking to gain time. 

“That’s what I said !” snapped the officer. 
“Come now! Who are you? What are you 
doing here, and what explanation can you make 
for the escape of your two companions?” 

“Praises be!” shouted Tim. “So they did 
escape ?” 


103 


104 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Only temporarily,” replied the major. “And 
kindly remember, young man, that you are in the 
presence of an officer of his British Majesty, and 
we don’t permit interruptions from prisoners.” 

“That last expression explains our standing in 
this company, I presume,” said Tom. “May I 
ask why we are considered as prisoners, when 
there seems to be no apparent ground for hold- 
ing us?” 

“There is plenty of reason for holding you 
two prisoners,” replied the officer. “You came 
ashore without any good reason for being out in 
an open boat all night. Your two companions 
escaped for the time being after stealing two of 
our horses, and in the excitement two very im- 
portant prisoners managed to slip away from 
their guards, thus causing us any amount of 
unnecessary trouble and annoyance. You have 
a good deal to answer for and no good answers 
to give as far as I can see.” 

“Well, to begin with, we were the survivors 
of a wreck. Our ship blew up, and the captain, 
mate, my friend and I escaped in the dory that 
we landed in,” replied Tom. “I guess our recep- 
tion was not cordial enough to inspire the other 
two with any desire to stay, and they just de- 


IN CAMP 


105 


parted by the easiest route they could find. I 
don’t see why we should be held responsible for 
their actions, nor for the escape of your other 
prisoners.” 

“Where were you bound when you were 
w T recked?” questioned their captor. 

“New York,” replied Tom, doing some hasty 
thinking. “We were going to land and go down 
to Philadelphia, where we live, after transacting 
some business in New York.” 

“What took you so far from home?” queried 
the major. 

“We worked our way down on a coasting 
schooner,” replied Tom, referring to a previous 
experience, and trying desperately to lighten the 
aspect of the bad situation they had fallen into. 

“Your story isn’t convincing enough,” replied 
the officer, and Tom’s heart sank at his words. 
“I think we’ll keep you with us for awhile, and 
see what else we can find out about you. You 
look a whole lot like that very slippery rebel spy 
we are chasing, and maybe you know him.” 

“Who is that?” asked Tom, with apparent 
indifference. 

“Dick Dare,” replied the major, watching Tom 
closely. 


106 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


But Tom was already sure of whom was meant 
and never blinked an eyelash. 

“You boys can join the troops,” continued the 
major, “and understand that any attempt to 
escape will be at your own risk. I think you will 
bear a little watching.” 

“I want to protest against such treatment,” 
Tom said hotly, “and if we get the opportunity, 
I will report this to those who will make you 
regret this affair.” 

With that he and Tim walked out of the tent 
and sauntered over to a fire. The soldiers were 
finishing their interrupted breakfast, and at a 
nod from their old acquaintance, the corporal, 
the boys sat down and joined them. Both of 
them were famished and the food was very 
welcome. 

Shortly after the meal was over, camp was 
struck, and the boys were given horses to ride 
and ihstructed to keep in the centre of the troop. 

“These look like Dick’s and Fritz’s horses,” 
said Tom. “They haven’t any of the usual army 
trappings, and the equipment seems different 
from the rest.” 

Two of the troopers rode in the camp wagon, 
as their horses had been appropriated by the mate 


IN CAMP 


107 


and the captain in their dash for freedom. Toni 
and Tim were considered more secure on horse- 
back and in the centre of the troop. 

The party rode to the edge of the bay along 
the road, and then several of them dismounted 
and closely inspected the shore for traces of any 
of their fugitive’s footsteps. They had only gone 
about half a mile in this fashion when they came 
upon footprints leading to the water’s edge. It 
was here that Dick and Fritz had rested aftei 
their long run through the woods. The spot 
where they had come out and marks down to 
the water’s edge were all that the troopers could 
find, and as there was no sign of a boat having 
landed or pushed off, the officers decided that the 
boys had kept in the shallow water near shore to 
hide their further trail. 

The troop, was therefore, ordered forward, and 
all the forenoon they cantered briskly along the 
shore road, following the turns and twistings of 
the irregular shore line, and making frequent de- 
tours to avoid the deeper creeks that ran into the 
bay. They did not stop but for a few moments 
at noon, when a hasty bite was snatched by the 
men and horses, and the latter were given a 
breathing spell. 


108 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


Still there was no sign of the fugitives, and 
the two boys, Tom and Tim, were as elated as 
their companions were discouraged. 

“Dick and Fritz must have gone the other 
way,” said Tim, late in the afternoon. 

“Or else they got hold of a boat of som^ kind,” 
said Tom. “I am inclined to think it was the 
latter, for the other direction would have led them 
back toward the camp, and would have delayed 
them further on their journey. If these good fel- 
lows only keep going at this rate they will get 
us within striking distance of our destination.” 

“And thim never guessing how kind f they are,” 
chuckled Tim. “If they only knew how glad we 
are to go along they would probably face about 
and cart us back agin.” 

“We must try to gain their confidence,” Tom 
went on, quietly. “If they do get hot on Dick’s 
trail, and we are free to give them warning, 
we can be of more use staying with them than 
by escaping.” 

“Thot’s a foine idea,” said Tim, greatly pleased 
with the new turn things had taken. 

“And, of course, at the end of the chase, if it 
only lasts that long, we’ll try to make our escape, 


IN CAMP 


109 


and get to Vincennes with Dick and Fritz. But 
I suppose that’s almost too much to expect.” 

“Oi don’t know, now. This pack of hounds 
seems moighty anxious to catch up with your 
brother and the Dootchman, and Oi’m after think- 
in’ they’ll stay roight along to the ind of the 
chase.” 

“Let’s hope the chase only ends in Vincennes 
then,” replied Tom, hopefullly. 

That night the British party were able to make 
out the lights of several camp fires across the bay. 
The day’s trip had brought them near the head 
waters of the Chesapeake, and across the nar- 
rower portion of the water the glitter of the fires 
could be easily distinguished. A council was 
held by the officers and they determined to make 
an early start in the morning and endeavor to 
reach the end of the bay before the party on the 
opposite shore, so that if their prey were with 
the other group and traveling in the same direc- 
tion, they might be within striking distance. 

The night passed without adventure and the 
two boys made considerable progress toward get- 
ting friendly with the troopers by relating stories 
while seated about the fires in the evening. From 
the talk of the soldiers, carefully guided by veiled 


1 10 THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 

hints from Tom, they learned the history of Dick 
Dare’s and Fritz’s adventures since they had left 
Charleston. 

The soldiers recounted their many encounters 
with the two energetic Patriots and were especial- 
ly bitter about their defeat by the boys and their 
friends some days back on the road. Tom and 
his companion could scarcely refrain from laugh- 
ing at the thought that these men were so in- 
nocently telling Dick’s own brother and one of 
his closest friends how these two trouble makers 
had outwitted the forces of his royal majesty, 
King George the Third. 

The troopers soon tired of telling of their 
poor success with Dick and Fritz, however, and 
rather than seem too curious about the other boys, 
Tim encouraged one of them to tell a story of 
one of the European wars that the troop had en- 
gaged in. 

The man was noted for his odd tales and needed 
but sufficient coaxing and an appreciative audi- 
ence to launch into one of his yarns. 

“All right,” the soldier replied to Tim’s urg- 
ing. “Some of us boys were in the regiment 
when this happened, and remember the incident. 


IN CAMP 


111 


but if they can stand for an old story, I’ll let you 
have it.” 

“Go ahead,” said two of the older men. “You 
can make an old tale sound new, anyhow.” 

Thus encouraged the soldier launched forth on 
his yarn. 

“It was a strange regiment, that old one, of 
‘Dragoons,’” he began. “There were men of all 
lands in that band and under the ‘Red Colonel’ it 
was a rare fighting force. We were always in 
the front of everything and when finally a ten 
days’ truce with the French was decided, we were 
all glad of the rest. 

“There was only one Spaniard, I forgot to say, 
in the whole regiment, for somehow or other, 
those fellows weren’t much in favor of us and 
we didn’t trust them any too fully. This fellow 
had been with us for a number of years and had 
time and again proven himself true to the regi- 
ment and his comrades. 

“We were just at the foot of the pass through 
the Pyrannees when the truce came, and this 
Spaniard fellow, who was a captain then, and 
very friendly with the colonel, asked for a ten- 
day leave of absence. He gave some excuse about 
long absence from home and about going to see 


112 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


his mother, and the colonel allowed him to go. 
He took his sword and his musket with him and 
disappeared along the track toward the moun- 
tain passes. 

“There were some in his own troop who didn’t 
love their captain any to well and in particular 
the young lieutenant who was directly under this 
Spanish captain would have been glad to have 
him out of the way. Therefore, before half of 
his ten days were up, reports of an ugly nature 
began to circulate. They were somewhat to the 
effect that the captain had accepted an offer from 
our enemies and had gone over to them with in- 
formation that would be of great advantage when 
the truce was over. 

“His friends indignantly rejected all such sug- 
gestions and said that the captain himself would 
deal with the parties who started such rumors 
when he returned. But the ninth and then the 
tenth day came and passed and the captain didn’t 
return to his place in the regiment, nor to dis- 
prove all remarks that had been passed in his 
absence. 

“After twelve days, the colonel, very much 
against his wishes, but in accordance with his 


IN CAMP 


113 


duty, had the captain deposed from office and 
read out of the regiment.” 

Here the soldier paused, and Tim, who was 
very much absorbed in the narrative, said, “And 
did the man niver turn up agin?” 

“Oh, to be sure,” continued the British trooper, 
“and that’s the story. On the thirteenth night 

'i 

there comes a challenge from one of the outposts 
and the Spanish captain answers the call. 

“ 'Halt !’ says the guard. 'Who goes there !’ 

“ 'Friend/ replied the captain. 'I’m captain of 
troop B.’ 

“ 'Captain Thornton is captain of Throop B,’ 
replied the sentry. 'You are no longer a member 
of this regiment. They read you out of it yes- 
terday.’ 

“The colonel had been attracted by this dis- 
turbance and he ordered the former captain to be 
brought before him in his tent. 

“ 'Well, what made you break your promise in 
this way?’ queried his anxious superior. 

“ 'I couldn’t help it,’ replied the captain. T 
was afraid when I asked for leave that if I gave 
the right reason you wouldn’t let me go, so I said 
it was to visit my mother. But she has been 
dead for two years now. In our mountain coun- 


114 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


try of Northern Spain we have what you call 
blood-feuds, and when they are once started the 
end only comes with the extinction of one or both 
families concerned. In our family there has been 
such a feud now for twenty years, but it is no 
more/ 

“ ‘Go on/ said the colonel, ‘ '.plain your over 
long absence/ 

“ ‘That was the cause of it/ continued the cap- 
tain. ‘I received word that the last two men, the 
only ones left of our enemies had been seen about 
my house and that my wife and two children 
were in danger. I hurried to their aid. In cross- 
ing the past I lost my musket and succeeded only 
in reaching my house in the dark, without any 
firearm. There was but one old gun in the house, 
and, worse luck, there was but one charge for 
that. However, our enemies who were trying to 
starve out my family, didn’t know of my arrival. 
I waited day after day, hoping, sometime, to get 
them both in line and to kill them with but a 
single shot. Day after day they went for water 
at the well, and lurked about the grounds around 
the house, but never did the chance I was waiting 
for present itself. Then finally, on the eleventh 


IN CAMP 115 

day of my furlough, the opportunity came. And 
now they are both gone and I am here.’ 

“The colonel’s face beamed with pleasure, for 
his confidence in the captain had been justified. 

“ ‘Thornton is captain of Troop B now,’ said 
the colonel. ‘Your leave of absence was, I re- 
member, for twenty days, not ten. Good-night, 
major.’ ” 

“So,” cried Tom, “he was not only forgiven 
for his overstay of leave, but promoted in rank?” 

“Thot’s a strange story for sure,” muttered 
Tim. “And you say it’s true?” 

“Absolutely,” replied the British soldier, and 
his two old comrades nodded their assent. In 
the meantime the men were preparing for their 
night’s rest. In a very few minutes the whole 
troop was asleep. 


CHAPTER X. 


TELCA. 

F\ ICK and Fritz, not wishing to loose any val- 
uable time, struck out along the shore of the 
bay, keeping in the shallow places and thus con- 
cealing their tracks. They searched vainly for a 
boat or any craft that would move them out of 
the path of the pursuing English troopers, but 
for half a mile they discovered nothing at all. 

“The activity of the troops in this section must 
have forced everybody who owns a boat to hide 
it very securely,” said Dick. 

“Yah, and if we should get away from those 
fellars, and to the other shores we would have 
to do it svimming, I guess,” replied Fritz. 

“We’ll get swimming enough without going 
out into the bay for it,” said Dick. “Here we 
are at a creek and no way to get past but to swim 
for it right now.” 

“I hear someding,” whispered Fritz suddenly, 
and the two boys dodged back into the marsh 
grasses at the mouth of the creek. 

116 




TELCA 


119 


After hurriedly making themselves as incon- 
spicuous as possible, they peered out through the 
grass to see what it was had alarmed them. The 
boys were by no means frightened, but neither of 
them wanted to fall into the hands of a larger 
party of the enemy after their recent escape. 

“It's something going up the creek,” said 
Dick. “Sounds to me like paddling!” 

“Maype here is where we get our canoe yet,” 
Fritz said, hopefully. 

“Indians,” whispered Dick, as a canoe rounded 
a bend above them. “Not on the war path either, 
for the squaws are with them.” 

“Can we speak mit them?” questioned Fritz, 
who was decidedly anxious to get into a canoe 
and stop this incessant walking, riding and run- 
ning that had kept them so busy for so long. 

“It will probably be the only chance we’ll get 
to get across the bay,” answered Dick. “I be- 
lieve we may as well risk it.” 

The leading canoes were now abreast of the 
boys, and Dick and Fritz rose to their feet and 
hailed them. The hail was entirely unnecessary, 
however, for almost as soon as they had spoken 
the boys were covered by a dozen rifles. 


120 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Put your hands up, palms forward/’ said 
Dick, quickly setting the example himself. 

“Friends,” he called to the Indians, who, de- 
spite their lack of paint, seemed very well pre- 
pared for hostilities. 

“Maybe we should schnell run for the woods 
already,” said Fritz, rather startled by the sud- 
den display of firearms, and sorry now that he 
had not stayed secure in the grass. 

“Too late now, Fritz,” said Dick. “These fel- 
lows look all right, even if they are supplied witli 
more arms than a regiment.” 

Dick and Fritz approached the edge of the 
creek walking waist deep in the tall marsh grass. 

“Us no like Redcoats,” Dick volunteered, point- 
ing toward Fritz. “We are Americans. No like 
Redcoats.” 

“Dot’s right,” chimed in Fritz, trying hard to 
smile into the mouths of a score of threatening 
rifles at once, and almost dislocating his neck in 
the endeavor. “And what’s further they don’t 

like us, not for something — nothing, I mean ” 

he ended, lamely. 

One of the redmen, a short, heavily built 
man, with fierce, dark eyes and a sharp nose, mo- 
tioned to the boys to stand still while they held a 


TELCA 


121 


short parley among themselves in a dialect that 
Dick could understand but little of. 

“They aren’t from around here,” commented 
Dick Dare to his companion. “That dialect of 
theirs is a sort of a mixture as far as I can make 
out and there isn’t much of it I remember.” 

“But I don’d see why we should be kept stand- 
ing here all morgen, und my arms are all reatty 
beginning to drop off from such long holdings 
up of the hands.” 

“Better to keep them up than to have them fill 
us full of lead for lowering them,” replied Dick, 
who was trying with but slight success to make 
out the Indians’ conversation. 

“What you boys want?” asked the chief, final- 
ly, when the boys were about ready to drop their 
hands and take the consequences. 

“Want to go with our friends, the red-men, 
and reach other side of big water,” replied Dick. 
“We are your friends and would like to take 
canoe and paddle with the great chief and his 
people.” 

The red-man was evidently flattered by Dick’s 
speech, and after motioning to the boys to lower 
their hands, which Fritz did with a groan, he 
turned to two of the canoe parties and indicated 


122 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


that the boys might seat themselves in the cen- 
ter of the light crafts and help paddle them. 

It was a long paddle across the bay and it was 
fortunate that the day was a calm one, or they 
would never have attempted the trip. As it was, 
it required several hours of hard paddling to 
reach the distant shore, and all the party gave 
grunts of satisfaction on arriving safely. 

The Indians were aware of the proximity of 
the British troops when they started out, and that 
was their reason for going over to the opposite 
shore. 

The squaws of the tribe all scuttled away into 
the woods to start their cooking, it being the cus- 
tom amongst the red-men to have the women 
do most of the hard work. The braves drew the 
light birch canoes from the water and prepared 
to make themselves comfortable while waiting 
for their meal. 

“You should a few lessons take from dot tall 
fellar,” said Fritz, stretching his arms. 

“What sort of lessons?” asked Dick. 

“You see the way he dreats his squawk ?” con- 
tinued Fritz, adding syllables to his vocabulary. 

“I don’t see him doing anything but ordering 
and bossing her around.” 


TELCA 


123 


“I* you vould like, perhabs, to be the head of 
dot houses you and Ben’s sister is going to 
have ” 

Here Fritz dogged a pine cone and hid safely 
behind a tree, while Dick searched vainly for 
more missiles. 

“I vill be goot,” yelled Fritz, enjoying Dick’s 
confusion immensely, “and nefer speak of such 
things any more.” 

“If you’ll promise,” said Dick, “I will forgive 
you this time.” 

At that Fritz came out from behind his tree, 
and linking arms with Dick they sauntered off to 
one of the fires. The chief was seated beside this 
blaze, watching the final preparations for his 
meal, and he motioned the boys to join him. 

“Um white boys eat with Telca,” he said, and 
Dick was pleased to find that he knew so much 
English, for he knew that mutual explanations 
and possible plans would have to be gone over 
by both of them, and his own ignorance of this 
band’s peculiar dialect prevented their carrying 
on any extended conversation in the red-man’s 
tongue. 

“Not wait here long,” said Dick, looking at the 


124 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


sun. “Redcoats after white men and we must 
hurry.” 

“Where are the Redcoat soldiers?” asked the 
chief, helping himself to some of the fish chow- 
der and then pushing the pot toward the boys. 

“We ran away from them this morning,” re- 
plied Dick. “They follow us soon, along the 
other shore, and there are many of them, too 
many for even the brave redmen to fight.” 

“Red-man do not want to fight too many, but 

if not too many ” here the chief drifted off 

into silence, and Dick could see that he was 
thinking of something that boded ill for the 
British troops, whoever fell into his hands. Fritz 
was too busy by far with the bowl of chowder 
and some fiat cakes of baked flour to pay much 
attention to the conversation. 

“My companion’s name is Fritz,” said Dick, 
rescuing the remains of the meal from that busy 
party, “and my own is Dick.” 

The chief nodded to indicate that he under- 
stood and would remember their names. 

“We are going back to our own hunting 
grounds,” said the Indian. “We have been away 
for twelve moons now, and they should be ready 
for us once more.” 


TELCA 


125 


“What is the matter, game all gone?” queried 
Dick. 

“No,” replied Telca, shaking his head slowly. 
“If white boys stay with their red friends, Telca 
will tell about it tonight.” 

“We will certainly stay as long as possible with 
our new friends,” said Dick, “and I hope our 
roads are to be together. Which way do the chief 
and his people travel? You must be from far 
away, for your tongue is new to me.” 

“We come across the high mountains,” the 
chief answered, pointing to the west. “We are 
going home, now.” 

“I wish we were already yet going home 
too,” sighed Fritz. 

“I thought you were glad to go on this trip,” 
said Dick. 

“Was I glad?” asked Fritz. “Of course, but I 
would be glad some more to get to the end and 
back.” 

“Well, we’ll get there if we keep at it,” replied 
Dick, rising. “But if we can, I think we had bet- 
ter start when you are ready, chief, and put as 
much space between us and our enemies as pos- 
sible.” 

“We start now,” agreed Telca, giving some 


126 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


commands in his native dialect to the other In- 
dians. Instantly all was hurry and bustle in the 
camp and after gathering up the few utensils and 
the food, all the tribe filed off to the shore and 
slid the canoes out into the water. They em- 
barked as before and were soon strung out in a 
long, snake-like line, keeping fairly close to the 
shore and paddling silently and swiftly north and 
west. 

They continued as long as the light lasted, and 
when it got too dark to see things plainly at any 
great distance, the chief turned his canoe toward 
the low shore and beached it again on the sands. 

The proceedings of earlier in the day for camp 
making were repeated and before long several 
little fires were twinkling in the forest and the 
Indians were preparing to spend the night in 
this spot. Their meal consisted of some smoked 
meat, boiled to make it tender, and some pota- 
toes which they roasted in the hot coals of the 
fire. After the Indians had eaten, they all sat 
around one large fire, smoking the long, root 
pipes, filled with fragrant tobacco. Fritz and 
Dick didn’t smoke, but they both took a few puffs 
from the large peace-pipe which was passed 


TELCA 


127 


around from man to man as a token of friend- 
ship and good-will. 

“Now will our friend and brother tell the In- 
dians of his plans?” asked the chief, addressing 
Dick. 

“Surely,” replied he. “My comrade and I wish 
to cross the mountains to the west with all pos- 
sible speed, descend the rivers on the other side 
and go on to the post at Vincennes.” 

“It is well,” said Telca, “for we too are go- 
ing almost as far and will travel with the white 
men.” 

“Fine!” ejaculated Dick. “Let us pledge our 
friendship by shaking hands.” 

This formality was gravely observed and after 
making, the round of the circle Fritz and Dick 
resumed their places by the fire. 

“And now may we know how it happens that 
the red-men are so far from their own lands?” 

“We left to give time for the Good Spirit to 
free our home of one who had gone, and yet 
stayed in our tribe,”- the chief began. 

“A spirit?” asked Dick, guessing that was 
what Telca meant. 

“Yes,” replied Telca, “the spirit of my daugh- 
ter, who was unable to gain entrance to our hap- 


128 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


py hunting grounds, because she died away from 
us, and we could not send her on as all should go. 
Cn a night thirteen moons passed, in an attack 
by the Redcoat soldiers, she was captured. The 
white men lost many braves and were greatly 
angry over their loss. They sought revenge and 
to teach a lesson to the great Indian, they out- 
did him in cruelty. We are not as cruel as the 
white man when he is angry. They bound our 
little daughter to the horns of a great bull-moose 
and drove him out into the lake. Our young men 
were far away and we were scattered after our 
defeat. But, with a few of the older men, I was 
following their march, waiting to rescue my girl. 
And after they had done this awful thing we 
caught up to them and could hear the great ani- 
mal thrashing about near the shore of the lake 
and could make out the burden on its head. We 
shot the moose, but my daughter was de.xi when 
we reached her. Every night from then on for 
many nights we could hear the spirit of the 
moose crashing about in the forests and we could 
hear the screams of our lost sister bound to its 
head. Then came a message from the Good 
Spirit, and Red Wing, the son of a chief and a 
man of wisdom, our own prophet, delivered to 


TELCA 


129 


us the message. We were to go away from our 
lands for twelve moons and when we returned our 
sister would be in peace in the Happy Hunting 
Grounds beyond, and the red-man would have 
his chance to revenge her death. And so we re- 
turn, after twelve moons of wandering, and we 
are to have our revenge.” 

“It seems terrible that any British officer could 
permit such a deed,” said Dick, hotly, “and al- 
though the white man’s God does not wish his 
children to seek revenge from their enemies, I 
can’t blame you for feeling that you are entitled 
to it.” 

A chorus of grunts went around the circle of 
braves, and Dick felt that some day the Redcoated 
soldiers would pay heavily for the deed that some 
of their number had done. 

“I vould not like to be a Red-goat, but in what- 
efer they get, they more yet deserve,” said Fritz. 

The wffiole party were rather depressed at the 
recital of their wrongs, and in a short time they 
rolled up in their long blankets and dropped off 
to sleep. 


CHAPTER XI. 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL. 


r T 1 IM MURPHY and Tom Dare both felt that 
* they had only just dropped off to sleep when 
the bugle called them back to the cold world of 
men and war. The British troops were making 
an early start, and before the sun was over the 
tree-tops, the men were in the saddle and once 
more on the trail of their prey. The day prom- 
ised to be a hot one before the sun was very high, 
and the troops were thankful when the road led 
them through brief snatches of woodland, for 
the shade was very grateful. 

They rode onward until about ten that morn- 
ing, when suddenly the leaders, who were keep- 
ing a sharp lookout for signs of the fugitives, 
came to an abrupt halt. The road led close to 
the water’s edge here, and something that they 
had seen was evidently of great interest. 

“Must have found a trail or some sign of the 
men you are after,” Tom said to one of the sol- 
130 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 


131 


diers. “I suppose if you catch those fellows Tim 
and I can leave you.” 

“I don’t know, but I guess the major won’t 
hold you any longer if we have the other parties 
in our hands. What do you want to hurry away 
from us for anyhow?” 

“We’re bound north and you fellows don’t 
seem to be going that way,” Tom replied, being 
careful to say nothing that would make the Brit- 
ish soldiers suspicious. 

“Sure and Oi wouldn’t moind travelling a bit 
with you, if it wasn’t for the awful hours you’re 
keepin’,” said Tim, yawning. “You keep us all 
up all night with good stories aginst which Oi 
have nothing, but to rout a man from his bed of 
roses at such an hour as we were this very morn- 
ing is positively indacent.” 

“There go the officers,” said the trooper on 
their right, as the little group rode past. They 
had been following in the company’s rear, but 
the halt told them that something had happened 
up front and they were galloping up to investi- 
gate. The bright uniforms and well-fed forms 
impressed Tom with the great difference between 
these well-paid soldiers of a foreign monarch and 
his own struggling friends. 


132 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“They make a pretty sight,” he said, half to 
himself. 

“Why don’t you join the regiment then?” 
asked one of the soldiers, who was paid a com- 
mission for securing recruits. “We all have a 
chance to rise, you know, and a couple of likely 
young fellows like yourselves ought to get along 
rapidly. 

“But if we joined,” said Tim, “and ever fell 
into the other side’s clutches, then where v r ould 
we be?” 

“And with such capable men above us as your- 
self our promotion would, I’m afraid, be slow,” 
Tom added, diplomatically. 

The ambitious Britisher was too much flattered 
by this last remark to have any good reply ready, 
and before h.e could think up any new reasons, 
word ran down the column to move forward. 

“They may have found a trail,” said a Red- 
coat as the news sifted back through the ranks. 

“Just the two of them?” queried a comrade. 
“I’m surprised that they found it.” 

“No, seems that there are a lot of Indians in 
this party, but the scouts seem to make out the 
foot-prints of two men who had shoes on.” 

“That’s the pair, I’ll wager,” said a third. 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 


133 


“That is how they got away from us yesterday, 
found some friendly Indians to take them away 
in canoes. No wonder we couldn’t find their 
track.” 

Tom made no comment, but he gave Tim a 
knowing wink which so distracted that worthy’s 
attention that an accident was only barely avoided. 

“This is foine ridin’,” said Tim, as a branch 
of a tree nearly took him out of his saddle. “Why 
the divil don’t those two people you’re devotin’ 
your young lives to chasin’ keep on good roads 
and not go trappin’ it off into these woods ?” 

“If we have to chase them far we’ll show you 
some fine places,” said the soldier who had told 
the story the night before. 

“Those two led us some pretty chases back on 
the old roads, and from the looks of this log 
track we’re following, we’ll be getting into worse 
ones before long.” 

“And a foine time we’ll be havin’ getting back 
to New York, or even Philadelphia for that mat- 
ter, after we have been keepin’ you company in 
these wild wanderings ages upon ages,” Tim com- 
plained. 

“Don’t blame us for it,” answered his soldier 


134 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


friend, “it’s the officer’s doings you know, not 
ours.” 

“Look out, Tim!” yelled Tom Dare suddenly, 
as the trooper’s horse ahead of the Irish boy shied 
violently and rose so high on its hind legs that 
it almost seemed that both horse and rider would 
topple over backwards. 

“Faith, and what’s the trouble with ye?” 
queried Tim, indignantly, of the man ahead. 

“Don’t know,” replied he, trying to appear 
calm, but really very much alarmed. “This nag 
must have seen a ghost.” 

“There it goes,” shouted Tom, leaping quickly 
from his saddle and darting into the underbrush. 
“Come here, quick, some of you. I haven’t any 
gun or sword, or even a stick.” 

Two or three of the men followed him and 
hastily stepped aside as a huge rattler turned with 
waving head and darting fangs in their direction. 

“Let’s have your gun,” said Tom, quickly 
reaching out his hand for the weapon nearest 
him. The soldier handed it over and retreated to 
a safer spot, out of reach of the threatening rep- 
tile. 

Tom took careful aim and pulled the trigger. 
At the same instant he jumped back out of reach, 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 


135 


but he was safe where he had stood. The shot, 
fired so close to the mark, had fairly blown off 
the head of the dangerous snake, and the soldiers 
gave a hearty round of applause at this excellent 
exhibition of markmanship, for with a swaying, 
venomous snake before one, it is most difficult 
to fire true the first time. 

“Good shot, young fellow/’ said the recruiting 
sergeant, heartily. “I’ll ask the major if he 
doesn’t think you could be trusted with a rifle, 
for a man like yourself would be a valuable ad- 
dition to our ranks.” 

“Thanks,” said Tom, hopefully, for he certain- 
ly would like to succeed in getting a rifle. He 
could see that the recruiter was still hopeful of 
enlisting the boys. 

“And sure, if you trust thot boy with a gun, 
Oi’m to be gettin’ wan at the same instant,” said 
Tim. “You should see the rattles off the hun- 
dreds of snakes Oi mesilf have kilt intirely yet.” 

Tim said this with a broad grin on his face and 
the soldiers could not help laughing at his re- 
marks. The sergeant, however, saw that Tim 
really wanted a gun if Tom got one, so he prom- 
ised to do his best for both of them. 

The log road that they had been following now 


136 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


was reduced to the roughest kind of a mountain 
trail, and their progress was greatly impeded. It 
was soon evident to the officers and men that the 
wagon with their supplies could never be brought 
along this trail, and in fact the horses seemed to 
be more trouble than they were worth. 

“We’ll have to dismount and finish this pur- 
suit on foot,” said the major, finally. “The trail 
is very recent and our men cannot be very far 
away.” 

“If we hurry at this stage of the game,” said 
one of the junior officers, “we ought to be close to 
them soon, and it may save us endless days of 
pursuit.” 

“Then let’s be quick about things,” said the 
major, sharply. “You, Captain Schafer, return 
to Richmond and await us there. Take ten men, 
all the horses, and our utility wagon. We may 
catch these men in a day or two, so wait for four 
days at the foot of this hill, where the brook 
crosses the roadway. Then if we get our men 
and strike the back trail quickly, we’ll have our 
mounts and won’t have to foot it all the way 
home. Don’t delay after four days, however, for 
the country is full of roving bands of traitors and 
rebels and we can’t afford to risk all these horses 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 


137 


any longer. Your responsibility is a heavy one, 
captain, but I am sure you will fulfill it with all 
care and diligence.” 

The captain saluted and said : “I’d like to go 
on with you, major, and round up those young 
rascals in a hurry, but I expect to see you back 
at the end, or before the end of four days, and 
the best of luck to all in your pursuit.” 

The men, at orders from their various superi- 
ors, dismounted and hurriedly gathered their 
blankets, canteens and weapons together, fastened 
their accoutrements in a roll and slung them on 
their backs. If there is anything a cavalry man 
dislikes, it is to be transformed into a foot soldier, 
and consequently there was some little grumbling 
amongst the men. 

Tom, uncertain as to what party he was to go 
with, and rather undecided in his own mind as 
to which he wanted to stay with, walked forward 
to where the major was standing, superintending 
the actions of some of the troopers. Tim followed 
him, and suddenly grasped him by the shoulder. 

“Try to stay with this bunch, Tom,” he whis- 
pered. “We’ll be able to do heaps and heaps of 
good for Dick, and we’ll be after getting all the 
nearer to our journey’s end.” 


138 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Good idea,” said Tom, being decided by this 
argument to do his best to continue with the 
larger body of men. 

“What’s a good idea?” suddenly asked the 
young fellow whom Tom had noticed talking 
with the major when Tim and he were captured. 

“We keep our good ideas for those who are 
able to appreciate them,” replied Tom, for his 
first encounter with this youth had left him with 
no very pleasant feelings toward him. 

“We’ll see about that,” said the other, advanc- 
ing on Tom. “I’ll teach you how to answer a 
gentleman when he speaks to you.” 

“When a gentleman speaks to me I’ll know 
how to answer him,” replied Tom, while Tim 
burst out laughing. 

The added insult of Tim Murphy’s laughter 
was too much for the hot blooded southerner, 
and he sprang at Tom with an arm upraised, in- 
tending to show the Dare boy who was master 
in this case. But Tom had had too many of 
such little frays to be caught napping, and quick- 
ly stepping aside, he stuck out his foot and pushed 
the furious boy as he plunged past him. Tim 
was standing directly behind where Tom Dare 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 


139 


had been, and he grabbed the falling figure as 
he lost his balance with Tom’s push. 

“ Saved your loife, me little man,” said Tim, 
carelessly letting the young fellow slide prone 
upon the ground. He then turned and walked 
away with Tom toward the major. 

“Ha, ha!” laughed the soldiers, greatly tickled 
to see the southerner get a tumble. 

“You uns got a fall that time for sure,” said 
one. 

The indignant object of these remarks, how- 
ever, was hastily brushing off clinging pine, 
needles and dirt, and meanwhile hurrying up af- 
ter his two intended victims. 

The boys had reached the major and that of- 
ficer was having difficulty in restraining his 
laughter, for although some distance away, he 
had seen the incident clearly. 

Tom saluted and said, quickly: “My com- 
panion and I have gotten interested in this chase, 
and as it promises to last but a few days at the 
most, would like to go on with you rather than 
go back and await your return. We can’t be set 
free, you say, until you capture whoever you are 
after, so we may as well try to help you out and 
hurry our freedom at the same time.” 


140 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Two burds at one stone/’ volunteered Tim, 
smilingly. 

“These two fellows are up to something,” in- 
terrupted the southerner, running up at that 
minute. “I heard one of them say that he had 
a good idea, so they must be planning to escape.” 

The major looked from the speaker to the two 
boys. They were smiling innocently. 

“We had two good ideas, begging your par- 
don,” explained Tom. “One we explained to 
this young man and the other one to you.” 

“They were both all right, I think,” said the 
major. “And I think, as these boys are in my 
charge at the present time, Mr. Wilson, you had 
better leave them undisturbed in the future. It 
looks as if it would be better for both of you.” 

“But,” sputtered the excited fellow, “they in- 
sulted me, they ” 

“We’ll discuss that at another time,” said the 
officer, coldly. “You may go now,” he added, 
turning to the boys. 

They withdrew and returned to the busy camp 
of soldiers who inquired how the “old man” had 
taken the affair. All expressed their pleasure at 
the way the boys had handled the arrogant young 
civilian. 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 


141 


“Evidently,” Tom said to Tim, “that fellow 
hasn’t made himself popular with the men.” 

“Nor would I, mesilf, already yet,” replied 
Tim, “if it wasn’t to our very bist interists.” 

“Well, we’ll have to make the best of it for 
awhile,” returned Tom. “We’ll do more good 
right here than anywhere else I can think of.” 

The men had by this time finished their ar- 
rangements, and with some parting jokes and 
laughing remarks the ten selected men who were 
to take the back trail strung out the horses in 
line and leading and driving them at the same 
time were soon out of sight winding along the 
twisting log road. Only the sound of their 
shouts to the horses and the crashing in the un- 
derbrush could be heard and finally even that 
grew fainter and died away in the distance. 

The remainder of the company, some fifty-odd 
men and the officers, gathered up their burdens 
and arms, fell into place two by two and were 
soon strung out over a hundred yards of rough 
mountain trail. 

“We are after them in earnest, now,” said Tom 
Dare, softly, “and no matter what happens, Tim, 
old man, don’t let them find us out and don’t let 


142 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


them ever get near enough to Dick and Fritz to 
capture them.” 

“Thot’s a foine little job for us two in this 
crowd,” said Tim, “but we’ll do our very best 
and it won’t be our own fault at all, at all, if any- 
thing goes wrong.” 

“Things are going to go right,” concluded 
Tom, “I feel it in my bones.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE NIGHT ATTACK. 

T ONG before the sun had cast its rays on the 
tree tops, the Indian encampment was 
astir. The sky was just beginning to grow grey 
with the coming dawn when the hasty morning 
meal had been finished and the fires stamped out. 
The Indians also had seen the camp fires of their 
enemies across the bay, and they took especial 
pains in the morning to keep their blazes small 
and hidden in the slight hollows. Silently the 
two white boys and their red companions stole 
to the water’s edge, launched their birch canoes 
and paddled away from their temporary camp. 
A heavy mist hung over the water and they 
wished to be well alQng before the sun’s warm 
rays dispelled the blanket that hid them. 

“It feels good to be able to paddle,” said Dick. 

The party in Fritz’s canoe was right along side 
of his and the boys were able to keep up a quiet 
conversation at the start. 

143 


144 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Ve would by now be half to death frozen al- 
ready/' replied the Dutch boy, plying his paddle 
vigorously. 

“Let’s put a little energy into our strokes,” sug- 
gested Dick. “We’ll try to get up in the lead 
and keep the pace up.” 

“I am already pushing so fast as I can,” re- 
plied Fritz. 

“Then we’ll leave you at the tail end in about 
five minutes,” said Dick, as he dug his paddle 
blade deep into the water and sent the frail canoe 
ahead by leaps and bounds. The Indians in Dick’s 
canoe caught the idea at once, and although Fritz 
and his companions started right after them, they 
were not able to catch up. Dick soon was parallel 
with the chief’s canoe and here his companions 
stopped paddling and looked at Telca for in- 
structions. 

“Ve haf caught you so soon,” panted Fritz, 
drawing up abreast at that moment. 

“You never would have if we hadn’t stopped 
so as not to lose you,” answered Dick. 

“Sometimes you are right, not, and this is it/’ 
said Fritz. 

“Which way now, chief?” asked Dick of the 
Indian. 


THE NIGHT ATTACK 


145 


“You can follow Telca,” said he, and speaking 
to his bow companion, the chief suddenly drove 
his own craft out ahead of the others and with 
a quick succession of powerful strokes was soon 
several lengths in the lead. 

Dick Dare and his party were soon after the 
flying leaders, but the chief and his paddling mate 
were well matched, and strain as they might, the 
others could do no more than hold their own, and 
never gained a foot. If they had started to over- 
take Telca, he could undoubtedly have drawn 
away from them with a little added effort, for the 
two in the foremost canoe seemed not to be ex- 
erting themselves to their fullest. 

Half an hour’s paddling of this kind brought 
the leaders almost over to the other shore, and 
some distance further to the West. The chief 
now ceased paddling entirely and held his shining 
blade in the air as a sign for the others to slow 
up with him. Their nearness to the shore made 
silence necessary, and when the sternmost craft 
had come up, they all moved forward very cau- 
tiously. 

“That was warm work,” said Dick quietly. 
“The chief can certainly give us lessons in pad- 
dling.” 


146 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Another half minute and I surely haf been a 
deader,” replied Fritz. “Such vork I nefer did 
yet, in veeks before.” 

Keeping close to the shore, the little flotilla 
went onward until they reached a small brook 
opening into the bay. Here they could see the 
narrow road running close to the water’s edge. 

“We land here,” ordered Telca, turning his 
canoe toward the bank. 

“What are you going to do with the canoes?” 
asked Dick. “It seems a shame to destroy them.” 

“We will all get out except four of the young 
men,” said Telca. “They will tow the birch 
boats to the land out there, and we will send word 
to our brothers, the Delawares, where the Red- 
man has hidden them. They may have them, for 
they were our friends when we came across the 
mountains twelve moons ago.” 

“I’m glad they are not going to be wasted. 
They are such beauties,” Dick said. “And that 
idea of having us all go ashore here and hiding 
them around the peninsular is a fine one.” 

The Indians quickly stepped out, gathered up 
their few possessions and their rifles, and roped 
the canoes together so that the four young men 


THE NIGHT ATTACK 


147 


whom Telca had picked out might convey the 
whole string to the hiding place. 

“Young men catch up to us soon,” volunteered 
Telca. “We will not wait.” 

“Hope they do,” replied Dick. “We aren’t any 
too strong now and every man will count if we 
run into that British troop again.” 

“Young men will be with their people by the 
end of this sun,” responded Telca, confidently. 
“Young men travel fast.” 

“Mein gootness, I’m glat ve don’d haf to race 
like those fellars,” said Fritz. “Und also I could 
vish Tim Murphies vas mit dem.” 

“Why?” asked Dick. 

“Dot Irisher, I vould haf his legs run off al- 
reaty,” chuckled Fritz. 

“I wish we knew for certain where he and 
Tom are,” replied Dick. 

“Berhabs they vould call on us this efening,” 
said Fritz. 

“Well, wondering won’t do any good, so let’s 
move along. The tribe are striking off along the 
trail, and if we want to go with them at all we 
had better hurry. These Indians are awful fast 
travelers when they want to be.” 

Dick and Fritz picked up the rifles they had 


148 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


borrowed from the Indians and set off after the 
party. The pace was swift and they were soon 
in the rougher and less traveled trails. The red 
men moved without any apparent effort and 
glided noiselessly along, yet covering the ground 
in very quick time. The women, although car- 
rying light burdens, were just as accustomed to 
the trail as their masters, and made no complaint 
as they followed their leaders. 

“If I should von of those red wimmins marry, 
yet, I vould do no more vork already,” said Fritz. 

“And I just hope that if you get anyone to 
take care of you for the rest of your life, that it’s 
one of the kind that keeps you moving,” replied 
Dick, laughing. 

“Dot’s just my luck wot is, to got von like it,” 
grumbled Fritz. 

“This is sure enough a rough path,” said Dick, 
as they stumbled over the roots of a giant tree 
that stretched across the trail. 

“Yah, this is for roughness a vonder,” replied 
Fritz. 

In spite of the difficulties of the trail, however, 
the band made exceptionally rapid progress and 
with but a brief halt at noon-day for a hasty 
meal and a short breathing space, they pushed on 


THE NIGHT ATTACK 


149 


again and by night-fall were far into the moun- 
tains. 

That evening Dick asked Telca about the four 
young men whom they had left with the canoes. 

'‘They will sleep with us before the next sun,” 
replied the chief. 

Dick didn’t say any more on that subject, but 
he was still wondering where they were and 
whether or not they would have come across any 
trace of the pursuing party when he dropped off 
to sleep. Fritz had already fallen fast asleep and 
with the exception of the three solitary outposts, 
all were resting after their hard march. 

A peaceful silence settled on the camp and the 
little fire-embers burned low and were not re- 
plenished. Silently from the darkness came the 
little woods creatures and gazed with black snap- 
ping eyes at the invaders of their forest home. 
Even the sentinels grew drowsy and had to 
change their positions to keep from falling asleep. 

Then of a sudden all the little feathered and 
furred folk vanished into the wood. The In- 
dian outposts crouched silently behind protecting 
trees, and then ran to the sleeping camp and hur- 
riedly awakened it. A shot and then another had 
come to their ears faintly, borne on the night 


150 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


wind from far down the valley. Even as they 
roused the tribe more firing could be heard, and 
Dick and Fritz, like their red comrades, hurried 
to grasp their weapons and prepare for trouble. 

“HI bet it’s those four Indians in some sort of 
trouble with the British,” said Dick, remember- 
ing his thoughts of earlier in the evening. “Your 
young men, isn’t it, chief?” he asked of Telca. 

“Not know,” responded that Indian, looking 
rather anxious about the matter, however. “In- 
dian find out soon.” 

“We’ll be with you while you are finding out, 
then,” said Dick. 

“Yah, I will be finding oud who has been shots 
firing into mein sleep yet,” Fritz added. 

The men of the tribe all filed off into the dark- 
ness, following Telca’s lead, and Dick and the 
German boy followed. With all their knowledge 
and experience in wood-craft, the two Patriots 
found it difficult to keep up with the running In- 
dians, but they managed to hold their own, al- 
though Fritz grunted considerably when he fell 
over an old log in his path. 

Suddenly the men in the front halted and gath- 
ered about in a circle. Dick, coming up behind 
them, saw that they were grouped about three 


THE NIGHT ATTACK 


151 


half-naked Indians whom he took to be the young 
men they had left behind. Evidently one of them 
was missing. The Indians were talking excited- 
ly in quick, sharp sentences, and Dick gathered 
that they had come upon the Redcoat camp, taken 
a few shots at the pickets, and in the running 
fight that had followed one of them had fallen 
and had been overtaken before they could help 
him. They were uncertain as to whether their 
comrade had been wounded or had been over- 
powered. At any rate he was now a prisoner in 
the camp of their enemies, and even the older men 
counselled an attempt at rescue. They were 
eager to be avenged on their ancient enemies. 

“We will bring our brother back with us. Let 
us remember our little sister also,” said Telca. 

“Ve haf no love lost on those Britisher fellows, 
too,” said Fritz. “A few shoots vill berhabs stop 
their chasing us the whole vorld ofer.” 

“If you see two white boys in camp without 
uniforms, that is, Redcoats, don’t fire at them,” 
said Dick to the Indians. “They may be our 
brothers, held by the red coats as prisoners.” 

Telca communicated this to the warriors, and 
again they spread out and moved swiftly through 
the black forests. Here and there, little natural 


152 THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 

glades let in the starlight, and helped them to 
follow each other, but for the most part, all was 
inky darkness around them. 

Almost before he expected it, Dick saw the 
twinkling fire lights of the English camp below 
them. Their pace decreased to a more careful 
one, and the whole party spread out into a fan 
shape, without any orders, each man his own gen- 
eral, as is the Indian custom. 

Dick and Fritz were far to the right and they 
began a stealthy approach toward the British. 
Their comrades were soon hidden from view, ex- 
cept for Telca, who kept near them. They had 
drawn close to the line that should have marked 
the posts of the British pickets when Dick, Fritz 
and Telca caught the sound of a voice close at 
hand. No figures was visible, which afterward 
proved to be an important thing, but neverthe- 
less, the three paused and listened intently. Telca 
finally motioned the boys to creep forward again. 
They were all mystified about the lack of soldiers 
about the fires in the distance. The blazes burned 
brightly, but no forms showed between them and 
the silent red-men. Suddenly from the other side 
of the circle came the call of a night bird, and the 
tribe knew that the other end of the line had 


THE NIGHT ATTACK 


153 


reached their position. When Telca answered 
that call the fight was to begin. But the chief 
never had to answer it. The sound of the bird 
call had just died away into silence when a voice 
near the little group said softly in a rich Irish 
accent, 

“Faith and it’s stiff Oi’m afther gettin’ to be. 
If ” 

“Tim! Tom!” called Dick, quietly. 

But he had spoken too soon. There was a 
British soldier with Tom and Tim, and behind 
them, about twenty yards, were a full row of men 
lying in wait for just such an attack as was 
threatening them. 

The English trooper leaped to his feet and fired 
his rifle directly at the spot from whence came 
Dick’s voice. In the darkness the shot fortu- 
nately went wild, but the alarm had been given 
and the battle was on. 

Telca, taking careful aim, dropped the soldier 
where he stood and Tom and Tim, firing their 
guns wildly over their heads, dashed off into the 
woods away from Dick and his companions. They 
hoped by so doing to get out of the way of the 
bullets from the British behind them, and also 
lead the oncoming troopers astray as to Dick’s 


154 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


position, for Tom feared that Dick and Fritz 
might be alone and therefore might be captured. 

The two boys were far from being alone, how- 
ever, as the whole British force soon discovered. 
The woods around them became a mass of shoot- 
ing tongues of flame, and the sharp fire of the at- 
tacking Indians soon forced the Redcoats to take 
shelter behind the trees and rocks. For a full 
half hour the Indians circled about the cordon of 
troops, firing and yelling and making the night 
fiendish with their blood-curdling cries. Several 
of the English, more exposed because of the fires 
burning behind them, fell, wounded or killed. 
But their numbers were too great for the red- 
skins to overcome and they were gradually driven 
back at various points and finally forced to cease 
firing and retire in the darkness. The fight had 
been brisk while it lasted and several times it 
looked as if the Indians might break the defence 
and complete their victory. But in the end, the 
greater numbers of the British succeeded in re- 
pulsing the attack, and with the loss of one man 
and several slightly wounded, the Indians retired 
into the forest, abandoning the attempt to rescue 
their captive brother. 

“Vas has happened to dot Tom und Tim Mur- 


THE NIGHT ATTACK 


i c? 
10 J 

phies?” queried Fritz as they hurried back to the 
Indian encampment. “Dot fool Irisher ran the 
woods off in, like the crazy feller he iss, und Tom 
vas following him after.” 

“They saved you and Telca and I by doing it,” 
replied Dick. “It certainly led the British astray 
for a minute.” 

“Maype Tim has some senses after all, alreaty,” 
said Fritz, thoughtfully. “I vould nefer tell him 
so yet.” 

“Well, they seem to be in all right with the Brit- 
ish and we can always hope to be warned, at 
least, if we get into danger.” 

“Und now, vere are ve going at?” asked the 
Dutch boy as they reached camp and found the 
squaws ready to move on. 

“Going to march some more,” replied the chief. 
“Redcoat man too near.” 

Fritz gave a longing glance at his heap of pine 
boughs, where he had hoped to pass the rest of 
the night, shouldered his gun, and trudged off 
with a sigh after Dick. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE CLIFF DROP. 


OM DARE and Tim returned somewhat 



* slowly to the camp after the firing had 
ceased, and the Indians had retired from the 
attack. 

“It’s hard to see any man shot down before 
your eyes,” said Tom, “but it’s a good thing for 
you and I, Tim, that the trooper that heard Dick 
call us by name isn’t here to tell the story.” 

“Sure, if he was, it’s you and I, me bye, would 
now be chasin’ the woods through trying to foind 
that brother of yours and his rid skinned frinds.” 

“Come along, we’ll go report to the major, 
and see where we stand,” said Tom. 

“Good,” replied Tim, “Do you know, Tom, it’s 
a lucky thing for us, it is, thot with thot crazy 
Dootchman firin’ at us we wern’t kilt entirely.” 

“Careful, Tim, don’t talk too much with these 
men around. They might overhear something.” 

The two boys had reached the major by now, 


156 


THE CLIFF DROP 


157 


and going up to him, saluted. Tim said that 
saluting a British major was the hardest work he 
had ever done in his short but eventful life. 

The major was plainly upset by the loss his 
troops had suffered, but he evidently did not sus- 
pect the boys of anything wrong, for he smiled 
gravely when he saw them, and merely said, 
“There will be plenty of room in the troop for 
you two now, I think. We have driven off those 
red-skinned devils, but it has cost us pretty dearly. 
You two gave the first alarm, didn’t you?” 

“I think we were the first to discover the 
enemy,” replied Tom, quietly. 

“Good,” returned the officer, “I shall remem- 
ber your services.” 

When they had withdrawn, Tim had great dif- 
ficulty in restraining his laughter, but they soon 
had to turn and help the wounded troopers, which 
effectually drove all thoughts of mirth out of the 
boys’ minds. 

The wounded men were made as comfortable 
as possible, and it was decided to dispatch a mes- 
senger to the ten troopers who had been sent 
down with the horses, to come up and convey 
them back to the nearest settlement for further 


care. 


158 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


The dead were to be buried in the morning, 
and it was almost daybreak when the tired sol- 
diers and Tom and Tim finally turned in to snatch 
a hasty nap. They threw out an ample picket line 
and waited for morning to take up the pursuit 
again. 

Early on the morrow the camp was all astir, 
and before taking up the trail again, a council of 
war was held, and it was decided to execute the 
Indian prisoner, whose capture had brought about 
the attack, as a lesson to the redmen. 

Tom heard of this brutal plan, and resolved to 
see what he could do to upset the arrangements. 
He and Tim talked it over, but could arrive at 
no safe way to set the Indian free. Any friendly 
move on their part would have brought trouble 
upon their own heads, and they were still seeking 
for a feasible scheme when the company took up 
the march, the Indian in their midst, with his 
hands tied behind him. 

Evidently they are not going to have the hang- 
ing hereabouts/' said Tim. 

“No, they must be hard to suit,” replied Tom. 
“There are dozens of big trees all around, and yet 
there are none that please them.” 


THE CLIFF DROP 


159 


“Oi have an oidea that it’s some showy place 
the villains are afther.” 

“Probably,” agreed Tom. “They want to 
make an example so that every Indian that goes 
through these forsaken parts can see.” 

“Hi there, boys, the major wants you back at 
the end of the line,” called a trooper to Tim and 
Tom, just then. 

“All right,” responded Tom, as they turned to 
obey the summons. 

“Phat can the ould feller be afther?” queried 
Tim. 

“Don't know,” answered Tom. “But we'll see 
in a minute.” 

The major was walking rapidly along behind 
the first company of men, and by his side the 
young southerner, who had been in turn so an- 
tagonistic to each of the Dare boys. 

“There is a very serious charge against you, 
young men,” said the officer. “Mr. Andrews, 
here, says you are friends of the party we are 
after, and that during the fight last night you 
communicated with them. What have you to 
say?” 

“Evidently, Mr. Andrews has been misinform- 
ed, for we held no communication with the enemy 


160 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


last night, and I hoped that we had proved our 
loyalty before you to your cause, by our actions," 
replied Tom, looking the young civilian up and 
down while he was speaking, as if he was some 
object of curiosity. 

“I thought myself that you were all right, last 
night, but it seems that no one remembers see- 
ing you after the first alarm until the fighting was 
over, and that fact, together with Mr. Andrews' 
suspicions, and the further fact that you were 
with us under rather peculiar circumstances, 
forces me to put you to the test." 

The major paused here, and both the boys won- 
dered what sort of test the trial was to be. 

“Well, foire ahead," said Tim, impatiently, 
“we are here because you keep us, and thin you 
are afther doubtin’ our wantin’ to be with ye." 

“If you are with us as spies, and are friendly 
with the other party, you know the penalty, of 
course," said the officer, sternly. “We propose to 
hang the Indian prisoner this morning, if we 
reach the proper place before noon, and that exe- 
cution will give you a good chance to prove your- 
selves. You are to be the ones to carry out the 
sentence !’’ 

Tom was dumfounded. They meant to make 


THE CLIFF DROP 


161 


Tim and himself commit the murder, for that 
was what it would amount to, of one of their own 
allies, one of the men who had helped Dick and 
Fritz. The idea was a shrewd one on the part of 
the British. 

Tim, however, instead of being upset by the 
idea, merely grew angry. 

“Faith, an’ out of two respictable, quiet citi- 
zens, you would be makin’ us to be your execu- 
tioners, would ye?” he questioned angrily. 

The major shrugged his shoulders. 

“Look at it as you like, my man,” he replied. 
“If you are with us it won’t be hard, and if you 
are against us, well you can take your choice.” 

Yes, that was just it. They had planned as 
nice a trap for the two boys as could be invented. 
Tom felt tempted to blow out the major’s brains 
where he stood and take their chances in the 
woods. But the odds were too great even for 
his daring spirit, and the Indian would be still 
in the same position as he was now in. 

“We must give that matter a little thought,” 
said Tom, finally. “Even in our position as mem- 
bers of this troop, we need to get accustomed to 
our task, and if we may talk it over for a few 


162 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


minutes we may be able to reconcile ourselves to 
our disagreeable duty.” 

“You haven’t much time,” said the major, 
shortly. “We may come to our selected place any 
minute, now, so be quick, and you had better 
turn over your guns to the corporal in the mean- 
time. After you have proven yourselves worthy 
you can have them back, and we will admit you 
in full standing to the troop.” 

As they turned away there was a sneer on the 
face of the young southerner, and Tom felt dou- 
bly anxious to beat out their enemies on that ac- 
count, for he had grown to cordially dislike the 
young civilian. 

“Sure, an’ we seem to be up against it, intirely,” 
said Tim, gloomily. “We can’t hang the poor 
divil of an In jin, an’ if we don’t there’ll be no 
more of the likes of us around much longer, what- 
ever.” 

“We have got to figure some way out of this,” 
Tom said, firmly. “Have you any weapons about 
you ?” 

“Weapons is it?” asked Tim. “If ye can call 
this foldin’ knife a weapon, ye’ll be doin’ well.” 

“It may be better than nothing,” said Tom. 


THE CLIFF DROP 


163 


“Try to keep it, anyhow, and don’t let anyone see 
it again.” 

“Where is it they are so anxious to hold their 
entertainmint?” asked Tim. 

“I don’t know. We’ll ask some of the men,” 
answered Tom. 

“Ask the corporal,” said the first trooper they 
questioned. “He has been through here before, 
and it’s him as has picked out the spot.” 

The boys went forward to find the corporal. 
They came up to him, near the head of the line. 

“Where is it we are going to string up the 
Indian?” asked Tom, indifferently. 

“Oh, it’s a great place for a sign like that to 
hang,” replied the corporal. “There is a big bare 
tree, I think it’s a cedar, and it’s right on top of 
a rocky mountain’s back. The trail we are follow- 
ing leads right up to it, and the only other trail 
around here runs ” 

“The major wants you at once!” a soldier ran 
up and interrupted them just at that point. 

“Runs where?” said Tom, eagerly. 

“I will tell you when you come back from the 
major. We are most there now, so you will see 
for yourself soon.” 

“So there is another trail, Tim,” said Tom, ex- 


164 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


citedly. “And to think that we almost got a de- 
scription of it, and then we are sent for. Well, 
we’ll tell that old fox of a major that we’ll obey 
his commands under protest, and run our chances 
of ” 

“If it don’t rain, it’ll be a foine day, Oi’m 
thinkin’,” said Tim, cutting short Tom’s comment 
and plans as the young southerner came into 
sight. 

“Do you know, Tom, there are some parties, 
mentionin’ no names, moind ye, that are certainly 
very nosy around these parts.” 

“And I’m thinkin’, my young rebel, that there’ll 
be two young spies less 'nosey’ before a great 
while,” rejoined the youth. “For one, I shall be 
glad to see the end of you.” 

“Phat a happy party it would be with anither 
wan loike you about,” replied Tim, looking for 
further trouble with their enemy. 

But the youth chose to ignore him, and hur- 
ried on to the major, with the two boys following. 

“Well,” asked the officer, when they had come 
up, “what have you decided?” 

“There wasn’t much to decide,” replied Tom. 
“We shall have to obey your orders, but we shall 
do so under protest, and shall report the matter 


THE CLIFF DROP 


165 


to the representatives of the crown when we get 
back to Philadelphia/’ 

“I represent His Majesty, here,” said the 
major, “and your complaints will do no good. 
We are, I understand, approaching the spot 
which has been selected for you to perform your 
duty in, and you will soon be called upon to do 
your part and prove your assertion that you are 
not spies.” 

“We’ll do our part,” said Tom, grimly, and 
thought at the same time that perhaps that part 
would be a counter surprise to the major. 

The morning was well advanced before they 
finally came to a sharp rise in the trail, and after 
a half hour of climbing, they reached the summit 
of the ridge. The party ahead of them seemed 
to have scattered where the trail began to rise, 
and they were unable to find any trace of them on 
the upper ridge of the mountain. 

The great tree that had probably served before 
in the same gruesome office for which it was se- 
lected to-day, stood bare and forbidding against 
the sky line. 

There didn’t seem to be anything but sky be- 
yond the edge of the ridge, while the trail they 
were on ran just below the top, and along the 


1 66 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


back of the mountain. There certainly was no 
escape in that direction. 

The troopers formed in a semi-circle to prevent 
any bolt for liberty, and the two boys walked for- 
ward with the Indian between them. His hands 
were still tied behind his back, and of the entire 
party, the redman seemed to be the least affected. 
He was prepared to accept his fate with the calm 
stoicism of his race. 

“If we cut your ropes, can we escape ?” in- 
quired Tom, softly, as they drew near the tree. 

The Indian’s eyes glinted responsively, and he 
nodded his head affirmatively. 

“How?” asked Tom, pretending to fix the rope 
which was supposed to swing the Indian off his 
feet. 

“Over the cliff edge. Roll down,” replied the 
Redman. 

Tom glanced up at the branches of the tree, 
apparently selecting one over which to throw the 
rope. In reality he was looking over the side 
of the cliff, and it was not an encouraging view. 
There was what looked like a straight drop of a 
hundred feet before he saw a ledge, and further 
down in the valley he could make out the glitter 
of a tiny stream, rushing down through the valley. 


THE CLIFF DROP 


167 


“Hurry up, there,” called an authoritative voice 
from the half circle of troopers. 

“All ready,” called back Tom. Then in a 
whisper, he said, “Out with your knife, Tim and 
slice those wrist cords, and when I throw the end 
of this rope up into the tree, over the edge we 
must go. Relax your muscles and drop. Under- 
stand?” he asked, turning to the Indian. 

“Ugh, good,” he replied. 

Tim stepped behind the redskin, and with one 
strong pull, severed the rope about his wrists. 
The Indian never moved his arms to indicate to 
the others what had been done, and at that min- 
ute Tom hurled the end of the rope high into the 
air, and instantly dropped over the edge of the 
cliff. 

The other two followed on Tom Dare’s heels, 
and a volley rang out almost coincidently. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


EVADING THE ENEMY. 



HE Indian party, with Dick and Fritz, 


A reached a point where the trails divided early 
that morning. With the coming of daylight their 
spirits rose, and the encounter of the previous 
night took on a more encouraging aspect. They 
had undoubtedly caused considerable loss to the 
company of British, and had escaped with but few 
wounds themselves. Telca was anxious to trap 
the Redcoats in some deep gorge, where the In- 
dians would have the pursuing party at their 
mercy, and was hurrying on so as to keep out of 
the reach of their antagonists until the right mo- 
ment should arrive. Dick and Fritz were anxious 
to reach the Ohio river near Fort Pitt, for there 
they hoped to get canoes to carry them down the 
river to a point directly south of Vincennes. Here 
Dick proposed to strike off through a forest trail 
and then travel north again to their final destina- 


tion. 


168 


EVADING THE ENEMY 


169 


"‘Which way do we go now?” asked Dick of 
the chief. 

“The bottom road,” replied Telca. “All spread 
out here,” he commanded, “we go up part way, 
come down again, so,” and he showed the boys 
how they were to climb some distance up along- 
side of the trail and descend backwards so that 
the footprints would all point toward the top. By 
scattering over a wide space they would lead the 
British into thinking that they had decided to 
take to the upper path and had scattered to hide 
their trail, and by edging toward the right when 
they descended they would be able to come down 
on the branch track around the spur of the moun- 
tain and follow that to the end of the valley. 

They hoped to make the mouth of the valley by 
nightfall, and if the British stuck to the upper 
trail, they would gain some distance unmolested. 

“I hope this little stunt works,” said Dick, as 
they scrambled down the steep mountain side, 
holding sometimes with their hands and at others 
slipping and clutching at rocks and bushes. 

“Yah, mit all this troubles, it should some goot 
do yet, for sure,” replied Fritz. “I have no more 
skin my hands on alreatty.” 

“Go right on and wear out the bones, then,” 


170 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


laughed Dick. “Y<pu have got to get down some 
way.” 

There was a sudden slipping and sliding be- 
side him, and before Dick could save himself, 
Fritz had grasped him by the heels in a vain effort 
to maintain his position and they both ended 
in a cloud of dirt and leaves at the bottom of the 
descent. 

‘Tor why don’t you hold on, und not push me 
to the bottoms?” asked Fritz, digging the dirt out 
of one eye. 

“You crazy Dutchman,” said Dick. “I’ll have 
to leave you home until you learn how to stand up 
after this.” 

“Such an unreasonable feller,” sighed Fritz, re- 
signedly. “Always I should got plamed for 
dings.” 

“If you don’t get up and brush yourself off,” 
said Dick, “the dust cloud will still be floating 
around here when that British party catches up.” 

The mention of the English troops spurred 
Fritz into action, and he hastily gathered himself 
together and was ready to go ahead again. 

Most of the Indian tribe were already far along 
the trail, and the boys had to hurry and catch up 
to them. The day proved a long one for the two 


EVADING THE ENEMY 


171 


Patriots for the sun was hot in the valley, and 
they were pushed to the utmost to keep up to the 
Indian leaders. Except for a short halt now and 
then when they all drank from some nearby rush- 
ing brook, they had been on the trail since before 
dawn. The men were also without any rest since 
the fight of the day before. 

The signal from Telca that they were to make 
camp w’as a very welcome one. 

“Well, I feel as if we had done a good day’s 
work,” said Dick, as they sat on a fallen log and 
watched the squaws gather wood for the fires. 

“Och, Dick Dare, a veek of whole sleep vill 
not my feet rest yet,” replied Fritz. 

“See how small and how well concealed those 
squaws build their fires,” said Dick. “Each one 
behind a tree or rock to keep anyone on that ridge 
up there from seeing the light.” 

“So soon yet as they got somedings cooked, I 
don’d care vhere they haf fires,” Fritz returned. 

In a surprisingly short time the food in the ket- 
tles was steaming, and the whole party felt 
strength returning to their tired muscles after eat- 
ing and resting. 

Telca joined the boys after having satisfied his 
appetite, and unfolded to them his plans for the 


172 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


immediate future. An hour’s march further along 
the trail along the mountain ridge came down and 
joined the one they were following. Just beyond 
that was the “big water,” as Telca called the river, 
where they would search for canoes for the boys. 
The Indians would wait for the British troops 
where the trails met, for there were high wooded 
rocky slopes on both sides of the fork, and the 
Redman would have a position of great advantage 
for an ambush. 

“But wouldn’t it be well to take up that posi- 
tion to-night?” asked Dick. 

“Don’d please some more mofe yet to-night,” 
said Fritz. “After to-day’s valk ve should be py 
the Pacific Ocean already. 

Telca considering Dick’s suggestion, puffed de- 
liberately at his pipe. 

“The mountain path is shorter than valley one,” 
said the Indian. “If soldiers walk all day, be 
most there to-night. Maybe go through before 
sun to-morrow.” 

“Then, let’s get there to-night,” said Dick. 
“You say it’s an hour’s tramp, and we can get 
there and take up our position before there is any 
possible chance of the British getting past.” 


EVADING THE ENEMY 


173 


“You right,” finally said Telca. “We move 
on now.” 

“Ve don’d nefer sleep,” grumbled Fritz, “und 
ven ve haf a chance, you must vent and spoil id.” 

“Well, we’ll be back on the water soon, and you 
can let your legs sleep while you paddle with your 
arms,” said Dick, laughing. 

After gathering up their packs and putting out 
all the fires, the Indians started out for their final 
camp. It was pitch dark when they arrived at 
the selected place, and they all rolled up in their 
blankets wherever they could find a level space 
big enough to hold them. Three of the Redmen 
stalked away through the trees to keep watch over 
the sleeping tribe, and both Dick and Fritz were 
glad that they were not forced to take turns stand- 
ing guard, after so long a day on the trail. 

The next morning proved to be wet and rainy, 
and, although the Indians apparently did not 
object to the condition of the weather, the boys 
were both very uncomfortable. Their long cam- 
paigning, however, had taught them to make the 
best of everything. A careful investigation failed 
to disclose the whereabouts of the British troop, 
and Dick and Fritz finally decided to go ahead 
to the river bank, which was only a mile from 


174 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


where they had slept, and see what prospect there 
was of getting a canoe. One of the Indians ac- 
companied them, and they hurried briskly down 
the trail through the fog. 

They had almost reached the river’s edge, when 
the Redman saw the glimmer of a fire through 
the mist and the trees. Crouching quickly, he 
pulled Dick and Fritz with him, and pointed in 
the direction of the blaze. Evidently the fire was 
but just started and not burning strongly as yet, 
for it would flare up and die down as a breeze 
encouraged it or the dampness retarded it. 

“Indian,” whispered the companion. 

“How do you know?” asked Dick, searching 
about him for some sign of life. 

The redskin pointed to the faint track of two 
moccasined feet, both exactly parallel with each 
other. 

“White man no walk like that,” said their com- 
panion. 

“Wonder if they’re friends or foes?” whispered 
Dick to Fritz. 

The Dutch boy’s teeth chattered with the cold 
when he started to talk, but the Indian motioned 
for them to be silent. 

“Come,” he said, leading the way into some 


EVADING THE ENEMY 


175 


long wet grass. Wriggling carefully along on 
their stomachs, the three made a detour about the 
spot where they figured the camp tp be. The In- 
dian left them for a few moments and ap- 
proached nearer to the fire. In a moment he was 
back again. 

“No good Indian,” he said, in a low voice. 
“Not friend of Telca’s people. Not friend of 
white boy.” 

“How many?” questioned Dick. 

The Indian held up both hands to indicate that 
he had counted ten figures in the Indian camp. 

“Canoe on shore,” he added in a whisper. 

“Only one?” asked Dick, in surprise. 

“Five canoe,” replied the Indian. 

“If we can only get one,” said Dick, “we’ll be 
fixed for several days to come.” 

Just then the sound of a volley of musketry 
came to their ears. 

“Mein gootness, what is dot?” said Fritz, ex- 
citedly. 

“The British,” whispered Dick. “It’s firing 
from the valley. The troopers have evidently 
caught up to our friends.” 

“Dose oder red-fellers has heard, too,” said 
Fritz. 


176 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


The three in the grass peered anxiously at the 
hazy group about the strange camp fire. 

“Me go back,” said their Indian companion, 
suddenly. “Tell Telca enemy here. White boy 
get canoe. Good-bye.” 

He held out a dark hand to Fritz and Dick, and 
squeezed each of their hands. 

“Tell Telca good-bye,” said Dick. “White 
boys never forget Indian’s friendship.” 

The Indian nodded, and turning, crawled off 
through the grass toward the shelter of the woods 
beyond the trail. The firing had grown more 
brisk from the rear, and although they were so 
far away, the boys could hear the loud roll of the 
British firing line, and the occasional barks of the 
Redskins’ rifles. 

Suddenly out of the mist near them, the new 
Indian party emerged, running warily toward the 
sound of the fight. Dick and Fritz ducked down 
into the grass just in time to save discovery. The 
ten Redskins filed past toward the trail, and when 
they were almost out of sight the two patriots be- 
gan to move cautiously toward the deserted camp. 
The fire was smoking and smouldering, and on 
the shore were five canoes, all of bark, drawn up 


V 


EVADING THE ENEMY 177 

clear of the water and inverted to keep them dry 
inside. 

“Fine,” ejaculated Dick. “There doesn’t seem 
to be any difference in these canoes, Fritz. Grab 
hold of that end and we’ll slide her into the 
stream.” 

“You such a robber are I vill pe afraid to stay 
py you again,” said Fritz. 

“All’s fair in war, you know,” replied Dick. 

“Couldn’t ve py any possibility take all five mit 
us?” asked Fritz. 

“Now, whose the robber?” laughed Dick. 
“But come on, you old turn about. We can’t 
loose a minute now. Stick the end of your gun 
through the bottom of that boat.” 

“But dot vill spoilt it,” remonstrated Fritz. 

“That’s just what I want it to do,” said Dick, 
jabbing his gun through the frail craft nearest 
him. 

Fritz poked the muzzle of his rifle through 
the bottom of another one, but in withdrawing it 
accidentally pulled the trigger. 

“Och, oh !” he yelled. 

“Fritz!” said Dick, sharply. “Have you hurt 
yourself?” 


178 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Nein, I don’d guess so,” replied the German 
boy. 

“Good, for that at least,” said Dick, thankfully. 
“Come on now, those fellows will be back here in 
a shake after all that racket.” 

The two boys hurriedly grasped the ends of the 
canoe, shoved it into the river and stepped into 
their new craft. 

“Paddle for your life!” called Dick, from the 
stern. 

“Yah,” said Fritz, “I am alreatty.” 

They had only gotten about a hundred yards 
out into the stream when the boys heard an ex- 
clamation from the shore. Turning, Dick saw 
the Indians file out of the woods, and reach the 
canoes. Two of them started to launch one of the 
boats, while the others aimed their guns at Dick 
and Fritz. 

“Duck, duck down,” called Dick, and as they 
did so, the rifles of the angry redskins barked out. 
One bullet splashed in the water near the canoe, 
and the rest whistled uncomfortably over their 
heads. The two Indians had gotten one of the 
damaged canoes into the water, but as they 
stepped into it, it began to fill through the rent 
in the bottom. 


EVADING THE ENEMY 


179 


Dick leaned down, dropped his paddle and took 
up his rifle. 

“Keep on paddling, Fritz/’ he said, quietly. 
“I’ll take a chance of hitting one of those red 
fellows.” 

Dick’s rifle cracked, and one of the Redmen 
gave a cry of pain and surprise, put his hand over 
his left shoulder, and staggered backwards. The 
others turned and sought shelter behind rocks 
while they reloaded their guns, which gave the 
boys additional time to increase the distance be- 
tween them. 

They were now near the further shore, and 
when the Indians fired again, their bullets flew 
wild, leaving the boys unharmed. 

“Run right ashore,” said Dick. “We’ll carry 
this canoe with us for a ways and launch it again 
further down stream. The mist is rising, so 
we’ve got to hurry if we want to get away from 
those fellows without being seen.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


UNITED. 


WEEK had passed since Dick Dare and 



** Fritz made their escape from the Indians. 
They had paddled steadily down the river, and 
by making their night stops short and their day 
trips long, they had almost reached the point 
where they were to leave the canoes and take to 
the trail again. 

“Guess we’ll camp here to-night,” said Dick, 
when it had grown so dark that further traveling 
was risky. “It looks like a good spot and we’ll 
get an early start and try to reach the end of our 
river journey by to-morrow night.” 

Fritz breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Yah,” he said. “It looks already like a goot 
blace to sleep.” 

“Well, we are on the last stage of the trip now,” 
said Dick, “and if we can keep up this pace we 
will get to Vincennes ahead of time.” 

“Vhere iss Tom und Tim Murphies, I vonder?” 


180 


UNITED 


181 


commented Fritz. “Ve shall be at Vinzennes pe- 
fore dhose two, I think it, yes, no?” 

“I’m surprised that Tom and Tim haven’t 
joined us before this,” Dick said. “Perhaps they 
haven’t fared very well in the British troop. They 
seemed to have their liberty, though, so I don’t 
see why they shouldn’t be right along behind us.” 

“Brobably it’s dot Murphies feller is making 
troubles,” Fritz suggested. 

“You have a great idea of Tim, haven’t you?” 
laughed Dick. 

“He iss a all right feller, Tim iss, but he isn’t 
a Deutcher,” Fritz replied. 

“I’ll bet he feels bad about that,” suggested 
Dick. 

“Dot’s chust the trouble, I don’d peliefe he 
does,” Fritz answered seriously, much to Dick’s 
amusement. 

The boys paddled in to the shore, pulled the 
canoe out of the water, and after eating their 
supper proceeded to make themselves as comfort- 
able as possible for the night. 

“We better not light any fires,” said Dick. “We 
had one this morning and I guess we can get along 
without it now.” 

“Look!” said Fritz, who was standing near 


182 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


the canoe at the water’s edge. “Dot looks like 
somedings iss burning.” 

Dick joined him and gazed upstream in the di- 
rection that Fritz indicated toward the opposite 
shore. 

“Seems to be a camp fire,” said Dick. “Who 
can be camping there, I wonder ?” 

“Perhaps some Indians yet?” suggested Fritz. 

“It must be,” agreed Dick. “We better pull 
this canoe further in, for if they go down the 
river before us in the morning they might spot 
it. Maybe it’s those fellows we got this canoe 
from.” 

“We had better be careful, then,” said Fritz. 
“If dhose felers efer caughted us, ve vould a bad 
time have.” 

“Guess we’ll have to keep watch to-night,” 
Dick answered. “You turn in now, Fritz, and 
I’ll wake you up in about four hours. Then you 
can give me a chance to snatch a nap. We can’t 
afford to take chances, you know.” 

“Don’d forget to call me,” replied Fritz, with 
a grin. 

With this quite needless admonition the Dutch 
boy rolled up in his blanket and Dick soon had 


UNITED 


183 


evidence from his heavy breathing that he was 
fast asleep. 

Dick felt very drowsy, and after walking down 
to the shore and back again several times to keep 
awake, he decided that the more practical thing 
to do was to slide the canoe into the water and 
investigate the camp on the point higher up the 
river. Fritz, he knew, would sleep for a week, 
if he were not disturbed, so Dick decided to im- 
prove him time by finding out, if possible, who 
his neighbors were. 

He paddled quietly, hugging the shore to with- 
in a hundred yards of the point where the fire 
had been seen, and then headed for the spot. 
There was no sign of life about the fire, as far 
as Dick could tell, and he judged the strangers 
must be sleeping. The canoe was now very close 
to the river bank and because of the darkness, 
Dick did not discover the little shoal of pebbles 
before him until the canoe grated on them with 
quite a little noise. 

Dick sat perfectly motionless for several min- 
ues. He was hoping that the sound had not car- 
ried to the ears of the other party. For an in- 
terval all was still, and then suddenly Dick heard 


184 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


a sound right beside him in the bushes at the 
water’s edge. 

He turned and was about to paddle quickly 
away when a figure stepped out of the woods 
with a gun pointed directly at the Dare Boy. 

“One move, and we’ll shoot!” said a voice 
from in front of him, and Dick saw a second fig- 
ure in front of the canoe. 

“Foine,” said the first figure, “we’ve got him 
now, be jabbers.” 

“Tim, Tom!” cried Dick. “Don’t you know 
who you have captured?” 

“Be the powers, it’s Dick Dare!” ejaculated 
Tim, while Tom dropped his gun and waved his 
hat in the air. 

“Not so loud, Tim,” said Dick. “There may 
be others within a hundred miles, you know, and 
if there are any they’ll hear you. This is cer- 
tainly great, though. I never thought it was 
your fire. I was just going to investigate.” 

Dick had pulled the bow of the canoe ashore 
and exchanged warm hand-clasps and many claps 
on the back with his brother and Tim. 

“Come on down and we’ll join Fritz,” said 
Dick. “We are safer away from that fire of 
yours, anyhow. 


UNITED 


185 


“Same old Dick,” said Tom. “Always take 
command as soon as there’s anyone to boss.” 

“You and Tim have been bossing each other 
long enough by now,” replied Dick, laughing. 
“You need some one to look after you for a 
change.” 

“Well, we’ve gotten as far along as you have,” 
rejoined Tom. 

“Excipt for a quater av a mile or so,” com- 
mented Tim. 

“That’s right,” replied Dick. “The honors are 
even, I guess.” 

The boys startled Fritz out of his sleep by 
their return to camp, and the scene that had oc- 
curred when Dick met the others was reinacted. 
Even Tim and Fritz were glad to see each other 
and buried their rivalry in the joy of being re- 
united. 

“When did you leave the British troop ?” asked 
Dick, finally. 

“I better give an account of our trip right from 
the start, to get things straight,” said Tom. 

“It’ll be an all night job if ye’ll be tellin’ all the 
advintures av us,” protested Tim. 

“Well, I’ll just tell how we left the service of 
King George then,” said Tom, laughing. He 


186 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


told then briefly of their experiences while with 
the English troops and how, just as they were 
supposed to prove their loyalty by hanging the 
Indian, all three of them had plunged over the 
edge of the cliff. 

“It was a desperate chance, but by good luck 
we all landed on a ledge a little way down,” said 
Tom. 

“Ids a wonder you were not all killed,” said 
Dick. 

“I thought sure our last hour had come,” ad- 
mitted Tim. 

“Anyway,” Tom went on, “our fall was pretty 
much broken by the bushes and various 
growths we tumbled through. When we got to 
our feet we hugged in close to the wall of rock 
that rose above and by our side and with the 
bushes overhead and a slight hollow in the ledge 
to hide us, the troopers never saw us at all.” 

“They think sure thot we are falling yet,” put 
in Tim. 

“I guess they believed that we had gone down 
clear to the bottom, Anyway, if we had, I don’t 
think any of us would have ever lived to tell the 
tale. The Redcoats didn’t stay looking for us 
long, and by noon-time we crawled out, then by 


UNITED 


187 


slipping, sliding, holding fast and helping each 
other, we got down the rest of the mountain side 
and struck the lower trail that we had hoped to 
find.” 

“What happened then?” asked Dick, while 
Fritz sat with his mouth wide open to catch every 
detail. 

“Well, next day we got down to a place where 
the trails meet again and there were a bunch of 
Indians holding a pow-pow, celebrating a victory 
over the same British troop from whom we had 
escaped the day before. Of course our Indian 
companion recognized them at once and insisted 
on our going with him.” 

“Sure, but they were a friendly lot, and we 
were mighty hungry by that time,” said Tim. 

“They were friendly to us,” said Tom, “be- 
cause we had saved the life of one of their tribe 
and because they knew you too.” 

“Yes, that was the tribe we were traveling 
with,” said Tim. “When we told them what we 
wanted! to do, they helped us fix up the canoe we 
have. Some one had punched a hole in it.” 

“Yah, I bunched dot hole already, I dink,” 
admitted Fritz. 


188 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


“Ye have no more sinse than ye had before,” 
Tim said, with disgust. 

“We had to destroy those canoes to keep from 
being pursued,” Dick volunteered. “Fritz did 
it because I told him to.” 

“Sure, he would not have the sinse to do such 
a thing himself,” asserted Tim, determined to 
deny any credit to the Dutchman. 

“You talks, Mr. Tim,” said Fritz, “but you 
says nothings from your mouth out.” 

“Let’s turn in now,” laughed Dick, “and we’ll 
let you fellows fight it out tomorrow.” 

“Yes, I’m tired,” said Tom, “and, Dick, we 
can swap stories tomorrow for I have lots to tell 
and there is a great deal we would like to hear 
about your trip.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


CONCLUSION. 

7INCENNES at last,” shouted Tom Dare, 
* six days after the four boys had come to- 
gether. “Maybe I’m not glad we are here.” 

“For myself, I haf no doubt aboud id,” said 
Fritz. 

“I'm glad we've reached here within the limit 
of time allowed us,” Dick added. 

“With the whole av two days to spare,” said 
Tim. “Faith, an' Oi think we had best be stayin' 
on the outside av the town till our toime is after 
bein’ up.” 

“Nein,” replied Fritz. “Ve’ll rest in houses al- 
ready yet, und not in fields, dose two days.” 

“They won’t be lettin’ you into a house, me 
bye,” joked Tim. 

The quartet had reached the clearing and were 
close to the walls of the fort at Vincennes by now. 
From many of the doorways of the houses women 
and children stared at them suspiciously. The men 
were all away in the fields and strangers in the 
189 


190 ' 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


little frontier town were quite naturally regarded 
with suspicion until they became known. 

The boys went directly to the fort, which was 
held by a handful of troops recruited from the 
hardy frontiersmen of the section, and Dick led 
the way to the man on guard at the opening of 
the stockade. 

“We want to see the commander,” he said to 
the trooper. 

“And whom might ye be ?” he queried. 

“We are messengers from Charleston,” Dick 
replied, “and have some very important orders 
for your captain.” 

“Well, you young fellers stay right where ye 
be, and I’ll go see about it.” 

The man sauntered off with his head turned, 
keeping an eye on the boys to see that they 
were obeying his instructions. Then he disap- 
peared and in a minute more they saw the same 
man come out of one of the log huts in the en- 
closure and beckon to them. 

The four entered and were soon in the presence 
of the captain of the fort. 

“Well, what can we do for you?” he asked, 
kindly. 

“We have duplicate messages for you, cap- 


CONCLUSION 


191 


tain,” said Dick, “which we have brought through 
from Charleston. They are relative to alliances 
it will be necessary to make with some of your 
Indian neighbors, and haste is imperative.” 

“You have certainly had a long journey,” said 
the captain, taking the silk wrapped packages 
that Tom and Dick handed him. “You are the 
first ones through since six weeks ago. What is 
the news from back home? And, by the way, 
may I ask your name, and those of your friends?” 

Dick told him their names, and also that they 
were connected with Captain Morgan's com- 
pany. 

“The Dare Boys!” ejaculated the captain. 
“Why, we’ve heard of you way out here. I am 
certainly glad to shake hands with such brave 
fighters for freedom’s cause.” 

The boys modestly disclaimed any undue share 
of praise and assured the captain that there were 
any number of patriots, just like themselves, who 
did as much for the cause as they did. 

“What are your plans now ?” asked the captain. 

“Why, just at present, I think we would all en- 
joy a wash and several hours’ solid, undisturbed 
sleep.” 

“Nefer mind the wash,” said Fritz, yawning. 


192 


THE DARE BOYS IN VINCENNES 


The captain smiled. “I guess you can have all 
the rest you want right over here,” he said, lead- 
ing the way to another small room fitted with 
bunks about the walls. “You boys tumble right 
in here while I go over these papers you have 
brought, and we will call you in time for dinner 
to-night. That will give you a chance to get a 
little rest. The men will all want to see you to- 
night and hear your news and stories, but you 
won’t be disturbed till then.” 

“That will be fine,” said Dick. 

“And, captain,” called Tim after him, “we’ll 
be havin’ foine appetities by evening, I’m not 
doubtin’.” 

“Don’t worry,” replied the frontiersman, 
laughing. “We’ll attend to that all right.” 

“We want to get in good shape for our trip 
back,” said Tom. “So here goes for a good 
snooze.” 

Those of our readers who are interested in 
what happened to the Dare Boys and their com- 
rades on the return trip and in their further un- 
expected adventures amongst the Indians of that 
unsettled region, can follow them in the next 
volume, entitled, “The Dare Boys in the North- 
west.” 


CONCLUSION 


193 


That night the boys were given a warm wel- 
come by the men and officers of the post. They 
told the amusing incidents of their adventurous 
trip amidst the hearty laughter of their new 
friends. 

“You boys better stay right here and join us,” 
one of them suggested. “We’d show you plenty 
of excitement.” 

“No, thanks,” Dick replied. “I guess we better 
travel along towards home.” 

And after a two-days’ rest, they did; that is, to 
be more accurate, they started. 

THE END. 

/ 


# 






SEP 13 1912 






























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